How Strong Are You Now?
by Kristyn The Kid
Summary: Sequel to 'Is Forever Enough' Catalina Torres returns to Seattle to spend the summer with her sister. Takes place partially around the events in the Season 5 finale. Also, there's a surprising twist that I think you're all gonna love. Read this.
1. A Home

**Jeez, when I first started 'Is Forever Enough?', I didn't think that I'd even post a second chapter. And now it's time for a sequel.**

**I named this 'How Strong Are You Now?' after the Rascal Flatts song. It's going to end up relating to this fic a lot. I also chose it because I like to keep in the pattern of titles that are also questions.  
**

**Every chapter in this is going to be named after a song because every idea for this story came from a song. This is going to probably be a lot longer and a lot more emotional and serious than 'Is Forever Enough?' but I promise, I'll still make you laugh.**

**A lot is going to go down so I hope you can all stick with me for the millions of chapters it's going to take to get it all down.**

This is rated 'T' for now but it might get bumped up to 'M' in the future. So, if you're a big-kid, you'll be fine.

**Oh, one more technical thing. I Googled average summer weather temperatures in Seattle and it turns out, it isn't that hot. But in future chapters, the heat is significant to the plot. Maybe I'll make it some sort of odd Global-Warming-related heat wave. If not, let's just allow me to have some artistic justice and pretend Seattle is hot in the summer.**

**To prevent myself from rambling on too much, I'll end this intro here. Enjoy!  


* * *

**It took a lot longer than I thought it would to convince my father to let me stay with my sister during summer vacation. He was still pretty pissed at me for spending spring break with her. I argued that he wouldn't have to see her anyway so he shouldn't care. He seemed to think my mind was going to somehow be corrupted if I stayed with her again. Luckily, my mother acted as a voice of reason and managed to persuade him into letting me go, probably pointing out that I wouldn't be home to annoy him. He had no argument against that.

Originally, I thought that it would've been a cool idea for them to drive me up to Seattle instead of flying out so I could bring my bike with me. The idea was quickly shot down for many reasons, two of which being the fact that my dad didn't want to see Callie and that my mother didn't want to hear my father whine about having to see Callie. My mother seemed to be strangely less involved with whole disowning Callie thing but refused to talk to me about it so I wasn't completely sure. Eventually it was decided that I would just bring my skateboard. I didn't complain because it didn't really matter to me whether I brought my skateboard or my bike. They both have wheels and they both move. A skateboard could be packed in a duffel bag, though, which made it slightly easier.

Another dilemma was what I was going to do with my turtle. Both of my parents didn't like the fact that I even still had the turtle, claiming it was juvenile. They said that a 'young adult' shouldn't still have a pet that they got when they were seven. I reminded them that turtles live for a long time and having a turtle is not in the slightest bit childish. Still, I figured that if I left my pet home, I'd come back to find him either dead from them not feeding him or suddenly belonging to our nine-year-old neighbor. So my faithful pet would be making the trip with me.

This time, the plane ride seemed longer. I guess it was because this time I couldn't fall asleep. I had my turtle's cage in the seat next to me, something was normally disallowed. My father had paid the pilot two hundred bucks to let me do it. My dad's main method of getting anything done in life was paying someone off to make it easier. I should've been appreciative but instead I was just annoyed that my father waved his money around like a magic wand. I blamed him for why my older sister Gina was so spoiled. I pushed these thoughts out of my mind, though, and focused on the fact that I only had to sit for five or so hours until I could begin the summer with the sister that I actually liked.

When I saw Callie at the airport waiting for me, I breathed a sigh of relief; summer had officially started. Guitar case on my back and turtle cage in my hand, I figured I looked like a tourist, a very strange tourist, at that.

"Catalina Torres." Callie said to me as I approached her. "Did you get shorter?" She laughed at her own joke and hugged me, way less hesitantly as opposed to our visit two months prior. This made me think that she actually had missed me. There was a lot more luggage that had to be carried to the car this time around and it took four trips to get it all. But once the car was all packed, we headed to Callie's house. I was glad to be going back. The entire ride home consisted of Callie catching me up on all the Seattle Grace drama I had missed. Apparently Cristina was dating some Army dude, Izzie had cancer and Meredith and Derek were getting married (mind you, I only knew who Izzie was out of that list of drama, but I just nodded along, pretending I understood it.)

As soon as we arrived home (I liked calling Callie's house 'home' more than I liked calling my own house in Florida 'home'), we started to unpack.

"I didn't know you played guitar." Callie added as I leaned my guitar case against the couch. "I thought you played drums."

"I do. I play both." I said. "But you'd be pretty pissed if I set up a drum set in your house, now, wouldn't you?"

"Good point." She answered. I saw her staring at the turtle cage that I had sitting on the floor. "So, where are you going to put the turtle?"

"His name is Needles." I corrected. She laughed at me.

"You named your turtle 'Needles'?" She smirked. "You're gayer than me and I've got a girlfriend."

"Oh, you're hilarious." I said, rolling my eyes. "Speaking of which, where is Miss Robbins? Does she know that I'm making my Seattle comeback?"

"Yeah, she knows you're spending the summer." Callie answered. "But she didn't know you were coming this week. She's coming over tonight. I figured you'd want to tell her yourself." She was still staring at the cage Needles was in. "Seriously, though, what are you going to do with him?" I shrugged, leaning my back against the couch.

"I could put him whatever." I answered. "He's not going to complain. I figured I'd just put him in the kitchen." Callie seemed disgusted at this idea. "I'll put a towel on the counter first. It's a turtle, not a raccoon I found in the dumpster, Cal." It was clear to me that Callie was not an animal-lover, or at least a turtle-lover.

It took an hour or so to unpack everything. I hadn't set up the guestroom yet but I was tired and said I'd do it later. I threw myself onto the couch and turned on the Stanley Cup recap from the night before (my dad was ranting about me staying with Callie again and managed to completely drown out the entire game).

"Hey," Callie said from behind me. When I glanced back, I saw her holding one of my bags. "You know you have like a thousand dollars in cash here right?"

"Yep."

"What's it for?"

"Dad gave it to me. I think it's for food or something." I thought about this for a moment. I remembered my dad giving me the money before I got on the plane. "Actually, I have no idea what it's for. Dad was explaining it to me in Spanish. I don't think he realizes yet that after sixteen years of life, I _still_ can't speak Spanish. For all I know, he could've given me that money for hookers and iTunes."

"Oh, that reminds me." Callie said. I was curious to see how I reminded her of something with 'hookers and iTunes'. She went and retrieved something that was in her bedroom, then threw it at me. "Happy late birthday." My sixteenth birthday was in May, a couple weeks after my spring-break trip. I tore through the wrapping paper as all kids do when receiving a gift. It was a PSP game. "I don't know if you have it or not but I couldn't think of what else you'd want."

"Patapon 2" I read off the cover. "Lead your troops using the new Patapon hero." I had no idea what it meant but the cover art was colorful and had lots of positive words on it. "Sounds cool, thanks." Callie just smiled, then glanced up at the clock.

"Arizona should be here in a half hour." Callie said looking down at me. "Try not to make a mess before she gets here."

"I don't plan on leaving this couch." I said, resettling myself in my seat and turning my attention to the game. "I've got a Stanley Cup game to watch."

"Keep me posted."

I spent the next thirty minutes on the couch, yelling the play-by-play to Callie who was getting ready in the bathroom. A few seconds after the third period began, the doorbell rang. I peeked out the front window to see my favorite perky blonde doctor. I threw open the door to greet Arizona.

"Hey, Dimples." I exclaimed. "Did you miss me?"

"Catalina Torres!" She replied, throwing me into a hug. "When did you get back in Seattle?"

"Earlier today." I faced the hallway. "Yo, Callie," I yelled. "Arizona's here." Callie emerged from the bathroom pretty quickly. I'm pretty sure Callie said something and then kissed Arizona but I was already slung over the couch with my eyes glued to the TV again. I heard the puck ring off the goal post, a sound that immediately caught my attention. Damn that Sidney Crosby. I think Callie might've said something to me before her and Arizona left the room but I wasn't listening to her at all.

**-x-x-x-**

I was angry that Detroit had won the hockey game so I channeled my energy into making the guestroom a little more decorative. I took down Callie's Matchbox Twenty poster and replaced it with a Tampa Bay Lightning poster. I set up my guitar stand and propped it up against the wall with my guitar in place. I had my laptop, PSP and satellite radio all set up on the computer desk, making me feel high-tech (though it took me a half hour to figure out how to set up the satellite radio which made me feel like a moron). I put my clothes in the closet, though was lazy and left some in my bags and told myself I'd 'do it later' (I wouldn't, of course). Needles was set up on the kitchen counter and the guestroom was now looking more like home. Only after I had finished all this, however, I realized that the guestroom was blazing hot. Why? There was no cold air coming out of the air-conditioner.

I dragged my pillow to Callie's room. I knocked on her door and didn't wait for an answer before opening it, hopeful that Arizona had already left. Luckily, she had, and Callie was sitting up in bed watching TV.

"What up?" She called to me, glancing at me.

"The AC in the guestroom doesn't work." I stated.

"Oh right." She said. Her expression showed that she had just remembered this fact. "That sucks."

"Yeah. It does suck." I replied, tossing my pillow on her bed and laying down. She just stared at me.

"Uh."

"It's a king-size bed, Callie." I told her. "We can both sleep here. I'll sleep in the guestroom when the AC is fixed and it's not two hundred degrees." She probably could've argued it and/or physically removed me from her bed, but instead she just shrugged.

"Whatever." She answered. She clicked off the TV, then the lights and laid down beside me, making sure she had the blankets that she wanted on her side of the bed. "Good night, Catalina. Welcome home." The word 'home' again rang in my mind. I liked it. I liked being here.

I woke up sometime during the night to Callie trying to climb over me.

"Dude, get your knee out of my kidney." I groaned, trying to push her off of me. "What are you doing?"

"I have to pee." She mumbled.

"Wouldn't it have been smarter to get out of bed on your side, then walk around?"

"I thought this would be faster."

"You thought wrong."

I must've fallen asleep before she returned from the bathroom because I was reawakened by her climbing over me a second time.

"Dude, didn't we _just _discuss this?"

"This still seems faster." She said, then laid down again. "Go to sleep."

It felt good to be home.

* * *

_**Four walls, a roof, a door, some windows.  
Just a place to run, when my working day is through.  
They say home is where the heart is.  
If the exception proves the rule, I guess that's true.**_


	2. Still Feels Good

**TWO chapters in two days? You people better be proud of me!**

**Okay, the point of this chapter is to get a small insight on Catalina's life in Florida.**

**Sorry there's a lot of dialogue =/**

**(P.S. see if you can spot the two Rascal Flatts references) **

**(P.S.S. Thanks for the help, Chris!)**

**(P.S.S.S. THANKS FOR THE AWESOME REVIEWS, GUYS!!)  


* * *

  
**"Who's Seth?" Callie asked me the moment I stepped out of the bathroom. Her question caught me off-guard.

"Excuse me?" I said, tossing my clothes into the hamper. It was warm and sunny that day. Both Callie and Arizona had the day off so Arizona was on her way over.

"You left your cell phone on the kitchen table." She answered, tossing me my phone. "Whoever he is, he called twice." I just laughed.

"Sounds like Seth." I remarked.

"So who is he?" She was leaning against the wall.

"He's like my version of Mark." I said.

"Okay, as your older sister, I should probably be keeping you away from any boys who are comparable to Mark." I laughed.

"Okay, maybe not exactly like Mark."

"Is he your boyfriend?" She asked. I laughed again.

"No, Seth is definitely not my boyfriend." I giggled. It had been a while since anyone had mistaken Seth for my boyfriend. "We've just been best friends for a while now."

"So he _was _your boyfriend then." Callie inquired. I wondered if this is what I sounded like when I first started pestering Callie for information on Arizona. If it _was_ in fact how I sounded, I reminded myself never to do it again. I slid my cell phone into the pocket of my jean shorts. I propped my feet up on the chair across from me.

"Not exactly," I went to the fridge, grabbed a can of soda and then sat in one of the kitchen chairs. "We had tried that whole 'friends with benefits' deal, though anyone with half a brain could tell you that that never works." I thought about it for a moment. "So for the last two years or so, we've been best friends. It's better that way." Callie just stared at me, like she wanted to know more. "What?" I finally asked after more staring.

"Tell me about Seth, duh." I just sighed.

"Well, he's probably one of the best looking guys in Florida. He's known for being a player. He's dated every girl in our high school, I think. But that's just his reputation, not really him. Deep down, he's such a girl. He's too emotional."

"Ha," Callie laughed. "That _does_ sound like Mark."

"But he also plays hockey with me and he plays guitar in the band that I play drums in." I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. "Unfortunately, he's developed a little bit of separation anxiety. And whenever I'm going to be gone for more than a day, he tends to call me. A lot." The phone stopped vibrating, then, twenty seconds later, started vibrating again. I groaned. "Come on, Seth." I flipped open my phone as Callie watched on, seeming a little too interested in my relationship with him. "What's going on, man?"

"Come home, Catalina!" He yelled so loudly that I had to move the phone away from my ear.

"What's the problem, big guy?" I asked when my ears stopped ringing.

"We had hockey practice for summer league today and I had no one to talk to!" He had said this so loudly, yet again, that Callie heard it and laughed.

"Dude, you're the most popular guy at summer league."

"But the only person I want to talk to is you!" Again, he said this very loudly, and I saw Callie make some sort of face that implied something but I wasn't paying attention to her.

"Seth, calm down." I replied. "I'll be home eventually."

"I can't wait until eventually." He whined. I could picture him pouting and stomping his feet like an angry toddler. "You need to come home sooner than eventually."

"I can't do that. But I promise, I will talk to you every day." I reassured him. Callie was still smirking from where she stood against the wall. "Now, I have to go. I will talk to you when I get online later, okay? Alright, dude, later." When I hung up, I looked to my sister. "What now?" I groaned, taking a sip of my soda.

"He is like madly in love with you." She laughed. I inhaled my soda, involuntarily.

"Pardon me?" I managed to choke out between trying to cough the Pepsi out of my lungs.

"The way he misses you so much? Damn." She shrugged. "Just an observation." I was utterly stunned at this 'observation' of hers but I couldn't think of any words to express it.

"He is my…we aren't even…we haven't been…Seth doesn't-" I stammered, trying to think of one full sentence. Before the speech-part of my brain could connect to the actually-talking-part, the doorbell rang. "Your girlfriend is here!" I exclaimed, sounding like an idiot. "Go greet her and stop taunting me." Callie giggled as she headed to the door, knowing she had successful made my brain try to kill itself.

**-x-x-x-**

An hour had barely passed and I was lying on a lounge chair on the porch. It wasn't hot enough to considered 'bathing suit weather' but jean shorts and a tank top seemed to suffice. I had brought the satellite radio outside figuring that it couldn't be as difficult to set up a second time around. I was wrong. After losing a battle of wits to it yet again, I finally figured it out. And by 'I', I of course mean Arizona. It took her four minutes.

I relaxed by myself, sunglasses on and listening to the always hilarious Howard Stern Show. I glanced down the stairs towards the driveway where Callie and Arizona was. Callie was leaning with her back against Arizona's car. Arizona stood on her heels while holding onto her for support, with her fingers hooked around Callie's belt loops. They were talking, giggling and kissing, generally acting like two smitten teenagers. And Callie accused me and Seth of being in love?

I thought that they were a cute couple; they looked good together. They got along perfectly. I couldn't understand what my father found so unsettling about their relationship. I thought that maybe if he would see them together, maybe he'd change his mind. But I knew that that would never happen. Instead, I just took solace in the fact that everyone was happy. It would be one of the few times that summer where everyone was happy. So I enjoyed it.

**-x-x-x-**

My eyes were shut but I could hear footsteps coming up the driveway. I opened my eyes to Mark approaching from the stairs.

"Hey, man." I called to him.

"Hey, Little Torres. Welcome back."

"Thanks." I replied.

"Where's your sister?" He asked.

"Shower." I answered, sitting up and pushing my sunglasses to my forehead.

"Where's Arizona?"

"Shower." I sighed. "That's why I'm out here." He just nodded and sat in the chair across from me. "I've been sitting on the porch, drinking for like an hour and a half now." My hand must've been covering the logo on the can I was holding because he raised an eyebrow at me.

"Drinking?" He asked.

"It's Cherry Coke, pal." I added.

"Oh." He got up to leave but I stopped him.

"Is there something you needed Callie for?"

"Yeah, I just needed her advice." He admitted.

"Okay, sit down." I instructed. "Maybe Callie's busy but I could try my hand at advice giving." He shrugged and sat down. "So what's the problem?"

"Well I got into a fight with Lexie and-"

"Let me stop you right there, Chief." I interrupted with a laugh. "I go to school with girls about the age of Miss. Lexie, yes?" He nodded. "I know how they think. They just want you to agree with them. Just tell her what she wants to hear. It will get you very far."

"But-" He began. I cut him off again.

"Tell-" I replied sternly. He tried to interrupt again but I talked louder than he did. "-her what she wants to hear. Trust me on this one." I stared at him like Callie taught me how (she called it 'staring down' and she said it worked wonders on Mark). He just nodded.

"Okay, I'll try that." He answered, standing up. "Thanks, Little Torres."

"That's what I'm here for."

**-x-x-x-**

Callie came into the guestroom later on that night (she had called someone to fix the AC that very morning. I guess she hadn't enjoyed our 'sleepover'). I was on my MacBook. Seth had IMed me in what seemed like a frantic attack of paranoia.

"Hey," She greeted, placing herself in the computer chair near the desk. "What are you up to?"

"One sec, Cal." I said, typing a few things on my computer. "I'm doing a video chat with Seth." A few more clicks and Seth's room appeared on my screen. He emerged a few seconds later. He looked twitchy and nervous, which wasn't new for Seth. He was wearing his typical white Hanes t-shirt, the same kind he always changed into after a certain hour. His brown hair looked as straight as it always did, falling past his eyebrows. Though I couldn't see, I was sure he was wearing the same plaid pajama pants that he always wore. Seth had become predictable to me. And the nervous, twitchy part had become the most anticipated thing about him. "Okay, Seth. I'm here. What's the issue?"

"Megan asked me out!" He screamed into his computer. Callie just glared at me. I tried to adjust the audio levels on my computer so if Seth decided to yell again, my speakers wouldn't blow out.

"Seth, dude, take a deep breath." I commanded. "Even through the crappy MacBook webcam, I can see your face is a dangerous shade of red and you're getting very close to panic attack." He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair like he always did when he was nervous. "Are you good now?" I asked. He nodded. "Okay, now what's the problem?"

"Megan asked me out." He said slowly. Callie was smirking but I didn't really feel like asking why.

"Just give her a yes-or-no answer, okay? Don't over explain; don't dance around the subject like you always do. And if you're going to reject her, don't do it in a harsh, jackass way because I know you and in a month from now, you're going to want to date her anyway and by then you'd have screwed your chances. Oh, and one last thing, don't do what you did with Selena and ask out her sister."

"I don't think Megan has a sister." He said seriously. I smiled.

"Well, then, you're all set, player." His face looked a lot less red now. I could feel Callie staring at me but I didn't turn around. "Tell me how it goes, okay?"

"Okay." He answered confidently. "Thank you, Catalina. Once again, you've saved my life."

"And don't you forget it." And he signed off. When I closed my computer, I finally turned to Callie. She was grinning at me. I knew she was due to start bugging me. "Don't even start." I said. I wondered if I had annoyed her half as much when I kept asking about 'the chick' my first visit.

"I'm not going to say a word." She said. "I just think it's adorable."

"That's five words."

"Fine, I'm going to bed." She got up from her chair and turned to walk out but paused in the doorway. She looked over her shoulder at me. "Seth loves you!" She yelled quickly then scampered out of my room, giggling. I placed my laptop on the nightstand and fell back in my bed with a sigh. I really hoped she was kidding.

* * *

**_Your fingers hooked around my belt loops,  
Leaning up against my ride.  
Remember the first time I touched you.  
It doesn't matter I've held you,  
I've touched you,  
I've felt you,  
I've loved you,  
And it still feels good._  
**


	3. Troublemaker

**Sorry it took so long, guys! Forgive me? The good parts are coming, I promise! Enjoy!! -KtK  


* * *

**Getting up at 5:30 in the morning is never easy. It's even more difficult when your sister's method of waking you up consists of poking you in the face, then, if you didn't respond to poking, shaking you. I didn't even get up that early on school days. It took me some time to drag myself out of bed but eventually, I managed to do it. I staggered out of the guestroom and towards the bathroom. As I sluggishly passed through the living room, I glanced down to see my knee inches away from the corner of the coffee table. I leaped up, jumping completely over the table and landing on the opposite side.

"What now, bitch?" I yelled down to it, finally avoiding the inevitable knee bruising that had become an anticipated event upon walking into the living room.

"Catalina!" Callie called from the kitchen. She was making a pot of coffee. "Stop yelling at the furniture and get ready to leave." Callie was too busy getting ready to leave to notice that I had hid my skateboard in my backpack and threw it in the passenger's seat of the car. I figured this was probably for the better since she'd probably just yell at me if she had seen it.

I spent most of the car ride to Seattle Grace trying to secretly reposition my skateboard and helmet so they didn't crush my iPod or cell phone, making me question why I had packed them at the bottom in the first place. Ten minutes and one potentially cracked iPod screen later, We arrived at the hospital. As we pulled into the parking lot, a wave of déjà vu shot up my spine. I dragged my backpack into the hospital behind Callie who was going on about the Stanley Cup and her feelings on the Red Wings.

As always, Callie had to work, leaving me with a warning about getting into trouble and assuring me that she'd meet me for lunch at 12:30. Callie rarely kept her lunch dates so I stashed my backpack in one of the lounges. Finding something entertaining to do at a hospital, however, isn't an easy task. I trolled the hallways, hoping to run into Arizona or Mark or someone I could talk to. I listened to the nurses as they gossiped about, well, everyone. I got bored with this quick and decided I needed to do something constructive. Well, Catalina Torres brand constructive.

I had found a _Sports Illustrated_ and decided to enter Callie in a contest to win a trip to a St. Louis Cardinals game to meet Albert Pujols. I wasn't sure if she even liked the Cardinals (or baseball in general) or if she knew who Albert Pujols was, but you had to be 18 to enter so I decided she was an appropriate candidate (and I figured if she won, I'd just lie and say that I was Callie Torres so I could meet Albert Pujols myself). I patted my pockets to find that I didn't have a pen to fill out the entry form. I checked in my backpack. While I pretty much had enough supplies in my backpack to survive a zombie holocaust, I did not have a pen. I headed to the nurses' station to find one.

"Does anyone here have a pen?" I asked, leaning over the counter and scrambling my hand across the office supplies, hoping to feel around for one. A male doctor was standing not far from me. He wasn't too big; he seemed to be about 5'5 (which wasn't much taller than me). His hair was dark brown and cut short. He was wearing the same pale blue scrubs that everyone seemed to have on. He also had his white lab coat on which I noticed only about half the doctors did. He reached into his coat pocket and handed me a pen.

"Here you go." He said, looking up from his clipboard when he placed the pen in my hand.

"Thanks." I said and began to fill out Callie's information on the entry form. As I was pondering over whether Callie's middle initial was 'E' or 'I', one of the nurses looked to the man beside me.

"Dr. O'Malley, can you check on Mr. Gerber in room 2902 when you're done here?" She asked.

"Sure thing." He answered coolly. My head shot up when I had heard his name.

"Dr. _O'Malley_?" I asked aloud. He looked to me. "As in 'George O'Malley'?"

"Yes ma'am." He answered. "Can I help you with something?" My brain tried to remember why that name sounded familiar. It didn't take long to remember that George O'Malley was the man that my sister had ran to Las Vegas, married, then divorced when he cheated on her with his best friend (who evidentially was her worst enemy).

"No," I confessed, leaning my back against the counter. "But I think we were supposed to meet sooner than this." He looked confused.

"Oh really?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm Catalina Torres." I said to him. I waited as he his expression changed to one of realization. It was the same dopey expression that everyone seemed to have when they figured out that Callie was my older sister. I had gone through this many times on my first trip to Seattle.

"_Torres_?" He asked, the same way they all did.

"Yes." I nodded. "You married my sister. Then you cheated on her. We never got to meet in between those two events, though." He just stared at me, blinking in a confused way that made me think that he wasn't sure if I hated him or not. "But, you don't have to worry about that. I don't have any resentment or bitterness towards you at all." I explained. "We can just start over." He didn't move. "I'm Catalina Torres." I put my hand out to shake. It took him a few seconds to warm up to the idea but when he did, he smiled and took hold of my hand.

"George O'Malley." He answered. I could tell simply by talking to him for only a few minutes that he was a nice guy. You could see it in his eyes that he was a sweetie. He seemed to be Callie's type (in guys, I mean). "You don't look much like your sister." He observed.

"Yeah, I get that a lot." I admitted. I shrugged as I considered the fact that Callie and I barely looked related.

"So are you in Seattle for vacation?" He inquired. I nodded as I filled in Callie's date of birth and put down her cell phone number. I wondered if she'd care that I was entering her in a contest she'd never know about unless she won. "How do you like it here?"

"It rains a lot." I said seriously. He just laughed and shook his head.

"You get used to it." He sighed. "Who else have you met around the hospital?"

"Mark Sloan, Lexie Grey, Dr. Robbins, Alex –uh- something." He laughed as I continued my list.

"Yeah," He began. "This hospital has a lot of interesting people, eh?" I nodded again, finishing up the rest of the entry form in sloppy handwriting. George's pager went off in his pocket and he glanced at it quickly before throwing the clipboard under his arm and turning to face down the hallway. "Well, Catalina, it was very nice meeting you." He said, reaching up and patting my arm.

"Nice to meet you too, George." I replied. When he went to walk away, I looked down in my hand and remembered that I still was holding his pen. "Oh, wait." I called. "Here, dude, your pen." I extended my arm to give it to him. He shook his head.

"You keep it." He said with a smile. "It's the least I could do for an ex-sister-in-law." I laughed as he headed down the hall and slipped the pen into my pocket. _Ex-sister-in-law_, I thought to myself,_ it has a nice ring to it, don't you think?_

**-x-x-x-**

Callie actually _did_ meet me for lunch that day, though she was fifteen minutes late. She had some excuse about a patient of hers coding. She went on rambling about it for some time before realizing that I had my iPod headphones in. When she eventually did notice, she yanked the ear buds out by the wire.

"Okay, ow." I said over the ringing in my ears. "That hurts, you know."

"Yeah, whatever." She responded, kicking her feet up on the chair that was across from the one she was seated in.

"Chill out, I heard every word you said. Someone almost died, you saved them, blah blah blah." I mocked. "Same old yakity yak." She rolled her eyes at me.

"So what trouble did you cause while I was working?"

"Why do you assume I just cause trouble?" I asked. She raised an eyebrow at me. Okay, maybe I understood where the assumption came from. "I didn't do much. I entered you in a contest to meet Albert Pujols."

"Thank you?" She inquired.

"I also met George." She looked up at me. She seemed surprised by this statement but curious at the same time.

"Are you just going to keep meeting random figures in my life until you know every single person I know?" She asked, almost sounding annoyed.

"No," I said quietly, slumping down in my seat in fear of her possibly hitting me the mouth. She sighed, probably realizing that she had shut me up a little more quickly than we were both used to. I stared, picking at the potato chip bag that was on the table in front of me. She let out a long sigh then just looked at me.

"So, George." She said, sounding more like a question than a statement. "What'd you guys talk about."

"We just made small talk mostly," I replied with a shrug. "He gave me a pen. He seems nice."

"He's one of the sweetest guys you'll ever meet." Callie answered plainly. "Besides the whole 'he-cheated-on-me' thing, he's always been a great guy." She was staring at the floor now, probably lost in thought about George and whatever her history with him was. He seemed like he was too nice a guy to ever break someone's heart like he seemed to have broken my sister's.

"Should I hate him because he hurt you?" I asked meekly after a moment of silence. Callie shook her head.

"No," She said. "You shouldn't hate him. I don't hate him."

We ate the rest of our lunch predominately in silence. I was a little uneasy about my decision to tell Callie that I had met George. It seemed that I had hit a bit of a nerve by bringing up George. Callie had assured me on more than one occasion during my first visit with her that she had no harbored resentment towards him. I didn't believe her.

When lunch was over, she sent me off yet again with the same 'stay-out-of-trouble' warning. I wasn't quite sure if I wanted to listen yet. I darted to the lounge and dug my skateboard out from my backpack. I figured a little skating out in the parking lot could be considered 'trouble'. When I glanced outside the window of the lounge, I saw that it was pouring rain again, splattering against the blacktop, making it too wet for me to even think about skating. In my mind, I tried to justify it, claiming if I slipped and broke something, there would be a hospital twenty feet away. But even I knew that that was a stupid idea.

So I did what I believed was the second best idea; I took off down the hallway on my skateboard. The wheels slid much more smoothly along the tile than it would on pavement. I ducked into a corridor that I had learned in my first visit was usually empty. I kickflipped over a 'wet floor' sign that was placed in the middle of the hall. I landed directly in a puddle (probably the one that the sign was warning me against) and splashed my legs with the rain water that was seeping through the ceiling. I laughed as I did. That couldn't possibly be considered 'trouble', could it?

* * *

**I'm a troublemaker,  
Never been a faker,  
Doing things my own way,  
And never giving up.  
I'm a troublemaker,  
Not a double taker.  
I don't have the patience,  
To keep it on the up.**

**I picked up a guitar.  
What does this signify?  
I'm gonna play some heavy metal riffs,  
And you will die.**


	4. Ready To Run

**Alright, I suppose this could be considered a filler-chapter since I really added it in to fill up one chapter before I start bringing the heat and get into the main plot points (they're coming, I promise). It's mostly dialogue, again. Oops. I apologize for the lame ending but I ran out of steam and wanted to get this up quicker for you guys. Hope you like it.**

**P.S. The song for this chapter has nothing to do with the theme or what's happening at all. I just couldn't think of a song and I noticed that the title appears in the dialogue somewhere.**

**P.S.S. Credit to Laurie who accidentally gave me an idea towards the end of this chapter.  
**

* * *

George O'Malley wasn't the only person that I met that day. After spending some time jumping puddles and other scattered medical supplies on my skateboard, I headed back upstairs to get a candy bar from the vending machine. I walked all the way to the lounge before remembering that my wallet was hidden in the nurse's station due to my typical irrational rich-kid fear of losing it or getting it stolen.

After I snatched a few dollars, I headed to find a snack machine. Skateboard tucked under my arm, money clutched tightly in my hands and iPod headphones in my ears yet again, I was paying no attention to my surroundings and ending up smashing into someone who was walking in the opposite direction. The next thing I knew, papers were flying and a clipboard hit the floor. My mind came back into focus as I stared at the person who I had walked into.

"Shit," I said, dropping to my knees and gathering the papers that had fallen. "That one was my bad, sorry." She crouched beside me, picking up whatever papers I missed and grabbing the clipboard.

"It's okay." She replied. I didn't recognize her until we were both standing. While I wasn't entirely sure who she was, I did know that I had seen her before. A lot, actually. I had seen her practically every day during my first visit at random times during my hospital trips, though Callie never formally introduced me to her.

Her hair was a mixture of brown and dirty blonde and it fell in wavy locks past her shoulders. She was small; about the same size that I was. She was wearing the pale blue scrubs as was custom but not the white lab coat, so there was no nametag for me to look at. I was about to ask her who she was but she spoke first.

"You look familiar." She said when she had gathered everything that had been dropped. "I used to see you all the time around the hospital a few months ago."

"Yeah," I began. "I'm Catalina. Catalina Torres." Before she even had time to make the 'oh-you're-Callie's-sister' face, I started talking again. "Yes, I'm Callie's sister. No, we don't look alike. I know the drill." I spoke a little too loudly and perhaps a little too quickly to look at all sane and I could tell by her expression that she was confused. I sighed. "I'm sorry. I've had this conversation with so many people that it's become redundant." She just laughed.

"Okay." She held out her hand to shake. "I'm Meredith Grey." I think I may've laughed or shook my head or something because she raised an eyebrow at me. "Something wrong?"

"No." I answered. "It's just that I spend most of my day hanging around the nurses' station and that seems to be the gossip capital of the world. And your name comes up a lot." Meredith just smiled.

"Yeah, that sounds about right." She giggled. "So is your sister in surgery right now?" I shrugged.

"Probably. I really don't know what she does all day. She just sort of just drops me off and hopes I don't wreck havoc on anything or anyone here."

"Well that's a loving sister sentiment if I ever heard one." She shrugged. I looked at her for a moment.

"So why does all the gossip seem to circle around you, if you don't mind my asking?" She thought about this a moment.

"Okay, so, you know how at school, there's always that one person who gossip and drama and trouble always seems to follow?" I nodded. "Well," She said. "That's me." I laughed.

"It's funny," I replied. "That's me too." She smiled.

"Looks like we have something in common then." She beamed. At that moment, Meredith's pager, which was strapped to the waist band of her scrubs pants, started to beep. "I've got to go. There's a trauma coming it. But I'll see you around, okay?" I nodded and watched her run off towards the emergency room. I wondered if Callie knew Meredith at all.

**-x-x-x-**

The rain just kept coming down. I watched it from the window. I really just wanted to go outside and skate but I knew that it still wasn't going to be possible. For reasons unbeknownst to myself, I decided that I would lug my skateboard to one of the stairwells. I wasn't nearly stupid enough to grind the railing or try to jump any steps, but I figured I'd just stay on the landing, just doing a couple ollies but nothing too complex (mainly because I knew that I'd inevitably break a bone and end up having to get it set by my scary older sister who, if she knew I was skating in the hospital, would hurt me.)

I heard the door to the stairwell open and for a split second, my heart stopped, in fear that Callie had hunted me. But the person who had emerged from the doorway was significantly smaller than my sister. Upon a second glance, I realized that it was Meredith.

"Hey Catalina." Meredith called, heading up the stairs towards me. "Should you be skating inside?" I popped another ollie.

"Probably not." I admitted.

"Should you be wearing a helmet?" She asked. I scratched my head.

"Probably." I took a step off my skateboard and leaned against the wall.

"Okay then." She replied. She sat on one of the steps a few up from where my helmet lay, untouched since I took shelter in the stairwell. "What have you been up to today?"

"Skating." I replied. "And thinking about how much life sucks and all that good stuff."

"Oh, you're young still." She grinned. "You still have lots of time for life to suck."

"Oh please." I laughed. "You're a doctor, meaning generally speaking, you were raised normal."

"Oh, really?" She giggled. "I'll play you in the 'Whose Life Sucks Worse' game right now." I raised an eyebrow at her, not really sure if she was serious of if she was messing with me.

"Okay. Let's go, Grey." I smiled. "My parents disowned my sister when they found out she was dating a girl."

"My parents screwed me up so bad that I'd been labeled 'dark and twisty' around the hospital." Her expression showed competitiveness.

"My only other sister is a troublemaking, migraine causing, nymphomaniac who's been arrested twice in three years for things I am not allowed to mention." I smiled after I said it. She couldn't possibly beat that, right?

"My half-sister works as a doctor here, proving how I could've turned out if my mother was at all a sane human being." She replied plainly.

"I was an accident and my parents make it quite obvious by using their money to keep me as far away from them as possible at all times." I said quickly, realizing that we had actually started gloating.

"My current fiancé was married when he met me and I got to find out by his wife flying to Seattle a few months into our relationship and having her tell me herself."

"I think my best friend may be in love with me." I said, which was weird because I hadn't actually realized it until the words left my mouth.

"My mother had an affair with my chief of surgery when I was really young, making working here incredibly awkward all the time."

"My mother let's my father make all the decisions and sits quietly behind him, nodding, no matter how terrible the decision is, causing my entire life, as well as my sisters, to be controlled by him."

"My father left when I was four."

"I _wish _my father had left when I was four."

"My mother tried to kill herself."

"My mother tried to kill my father."

We just stared at each other for a while.

"Damn." She said, shaking head. "I've never met anyone whose life has sucked as much as mine. I'm impressed."

"Both our lives totally suck." I stated. "Something else we have in common, eh?" She laughed, pushing herself up off the stairs and standing.

"Well, Catalina, as much as I'd love to stay and talk to you, if I don't meet my fiancé for lunch, he'll be all moody and annoying all day." She headed up the stairs. "You're a cool kid. Come find me later; we'll talk some more." I nodded as she made her way to the door. Now, I was bored.

**-x-x-x-**

I spotted Callie at the nurses' station that was closest to the lounge. I had to stash my skateboard in my backpack without her seeing me. If she caught me with a skateboard in the hospital, well, it would end with another black eye, and personally, the one time was plenty. She had her backed turned to me so I figured if I was quick and quiet, she wouldn't notice me. And I thought I was successful, too, until I was about three steps from the doorway of the lounge.

"Catalina Torres!" A voice called behind me. _Busted_, I thought. I spun around to see Callie standing, staring at me. Her arms were folded over her chest. Her expression did not seem to symbolize happiness. I quickly tried to hide my skateboard behind my back. "What are you doing?" I flashed a very innocent smile.

"Why, I don't know what you're talking about." I beamed, trying to keep my cool and not wind sprint in the opposite direction.

"Why do you have your skateboard?"

"Skateboard?" I pretended to ponder. "What skateboard?" She shot me an evil look, then grabbed me by my shoulders, spun me around and grabbed my skateboard out of my hands. Now she was glaring at me hard. I wished that I hadn't left my helmet in the stairwell because now I was sure I'd need it. Then Callie started yelling. Some of it was in English. Some of it was in Spanish.

"Cómo atrévasele…I told you not to get into trouble…monopatinaje en un hospital…are you insane? Can't you just sit down on the couch and watch TV like a normal child for once? … cuántos años tiene? usted actúa como usted es diez!" I just stared at her, not sure if I should be trying to block my face from any oncoming blows or if I should be grabbing some sort of Spanish-to-English dictionary. But, luckily, out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone come up behind Callie. It was Arizona.

I think she could tell by the Spanish ranting that there was a bit of a problem. I was trying to make eye contact with Arizona and ask her to make the dual-language yelling stop.

"Woah," She said, stepping in between the two of us and facing my sister. "What's going on here?"

"Le dije que se mantuviese alejada de los problemas, y que hace? Trae una patineta al hospital! Cuantos adolescentes maduros harian algo como eso? Cuando tenia su edad, nunca me metia en ningun problema…" Arizona looked to me quickly, as if I understood a single word that Callie was saying. Callie continued too fast and too non-English for either of us to comprehend. Arizona, being resourceful and probably about as sick of hearing Callie yell as I was, looked over her shoulder at me.

"Get ready to run." She whispered so only I could hear her. I wasn't quite sure what she meant until she grabbed my still raving sister by her lab coat and kissed her, soon after using one hand to signal me to run the other way before Callie realized her ploy. I took off down the hallway, turning the corner and trying not to smash into any patients or doctors. Before I turned, I had glanced back to see Callie and Arizona still kissing, knowing that this had bought me some time. I went through a mental to-do list in my mind.

_Grab helmet from stairwell. Hide skateboard. Pray that Callie has no short term memory and forgot that she busted me two minutes ago._

My top priority was to avoid Callie until the end of the day so there was a better chance of her forgetting. I passed a vending machine. I then realized that I had never bought the candy bar that I was planning to buy before I met Meredith. Now my top priority was to buy a KitKat.

* * *

**Ready, ready, ready, ready, ready to run.  
All I'm ready to do is have some fun.  
What's all this talk about love?**


	5. How To Save A Life

**It took me two weeks to write the first 150 words or so. Then, I wrote 2,000 words in two hours or so today…huh, weird work habits, yes?**

**Well, brace yourself, gang, because here it comes. This chapter has been planned (at least somewhat, anyway), since I was still writing 'Is Forever Enough?'.**

**I expect reviews from you people telling me EXACTLY what you think.**

**Here it goes. I tried my best. It took a lot out of me. I think I rocked it. Enjoy!  


* * *

**The next day started off completely normal. When Callie saw me heading towards the car with my backpack, she almost tackled me. She searched my bag for anything with which I could cause chaos. I wasn't sure what exactly it was that she was searching for. Next, she searched my pockets against my will (which isn't a moment in my life I want back). Once I was completely stripped of everything that could possibly considered 'fun', we drove to the hospital. All I had was my laptop, my iPod and my wallet (which I suppose others could consider recreational but I'd much rather have my skateboard or my laser-pointer that Callie had taken from me.)

The car ride consisted of Callie threatening me. A lot. She said if she caught me doing anything that she would consider to be trouble that she would beat me to death with my own skateboard helmet. Based on the fact that the detail she used in describing how she actually would kill me and the fact that she had put my helmet in the trunk of her car, I was pretty sure that she was serious.

I ultimately decided that it was best to lay low. Callie scared me and I wanted to live to see Christmas. I hid from my vicious older sister in a doctor's lounge. I crashed on the couch and set up my laptop, resting it on my stomach when I laid down. I updated my MySpace, Facebook and Twitter, all with the exact same one-line sentence. I wondered to myself how any teenagers could find these websites fun or at all constructive. I wasn't allowed to leave the lounge because Callie would kill me. That kind of blunt restriction made me want to crawl out of my skin.

I spent two hours on that couch, trying to entertain myself with whatever I could find online but the WiFi connection in the hospital was weak. Every time I opened an internet window it froze and I cursed at the screen, making any doctor in the room stare at me and think I was weird. Before I was able to think about fixing my computer, Arizona stormed into the room, dropping all of her things on the table, then collapsing into a chair with a sigh.

"Something wrong?" I asked from where I lay on the couch. I lifted my laptop off of me and placed it near my feet.

"Your sister and I seem to be in a bit of a fight." She admitted. This was the first time I'd ever seen my sister and Arizona not getting along perfectly.

"Woah," I answered. "What about?"

"George O'Malley joined the army." She declared, loud and in a matter-of-fact tone that made me unsure of how that was at all relevant to the fight with my sister.

"Well, that's cool." I said, bringing my eyes back to my laptop, speculating how I could fix it.

"A-ha!" Arizona yelled, almost boasting. "It _is_ cool! One might even say it's '_awesome_', right?!" She said this in an unusually loud manner that caught me off guard and caused me to jump a little and leaving me to stare at her, blinking in puzzlement. She must've noticed almost immediately what her outburst had sounded like because she took a deep breath and settled back in her chair, placing her hands folded in her lap. "I apologize for the yelling, Catalina." She rested her one elbow on the arm rest and twirled a lock of her blonde hair around her finger.

"Don't worry about it," I said with a shrug. "So, O'Malley, army, you and Callie fighting?"

"I said that George joining the army was awesome and it pissed your sister off because she disagrees very strongly."

"Yeah, well," I began, sitting up straight. "Callie is stubborn. She'll give in eventually, though. She always does."

"I don't know, Catalina." She said. "She seemed pretty upset." I pondered this thought for a minute before standing up.

"Let me talk to her." I suggested.

"Are you sure?" She inquired, grabbing my arm before I walked out. "Do you think you should get involved?"

"I don't know. Probably not." I shrugged. "But, I'm going to do it anyway." I glanced to my laptop. "Don't let anyone steal that. Even for rich kids, it's a pain in the ass to buy a new one." Arizona just nodded, seemingly wrapped up in her fight with my sister.

It didn't take long to find Callie; she seemed to be magnetically drawn to the nurses' station. I came up behind her. She had he head down, writing something in one of those patient charts that everyone seemed to write in all the time. I was somewhat curious as to what was on them and what made them so time consuming but I knew that was something I'd have to figure out at a later date. I tapped her on the shoulder. She spun around, immediately looking pissed off.

"What are you doing out of the lounge?" She said loudly. I quickly used my hands to shield my head.

"Not in the face!" I yelled, wincing. She raised an eyebrow at me. "Sorry." I said after a moment of collecting myself. "I thought you were going to punch me." She shot me a dirty look then turned back to the counter. "So, apparently you're fighting with Arizona?" She turned to me once more, slowly this time, scowling at me. I regretted my decision of getting involved instantly.

"Who told you that?" She growled. I stared at her for a moment, terrified of getting injured.

"Please don't kill me." I replied meekly. She rolled her eyes at me, resting one hand on her hip.

"Did you talk to Arizona? Did she tell you we were fighting?"

"Yes." I answered. "She said that George joined the army and you're miffed about it."

"Yeah, so?" She scoffed.

"You don't think that it's awes-"

"If you say the word 'awesome', I'm going to rip your mouth off of your face." She interrupted. I gulped.

"Yes ma'am." I nodded promptly. She looked at me a moment.

"Why do you care, anyway?" She asked. I shrugged.

"I don't know."

"Well, how about you stay out of it, Catalina?" Callie replied bitterly. "It's got nothing to do with you. Go watch hockey or feed your turtle or something."

"Okay, seriously?" I protested. "Do you just associate me with turtles and hockey?" She nodded.

"Just go back to the lounge and do something." She sneered. "I have to work." I tried to dispute this further but she rushed down the hall before I could say anything else. Out of ideas, I headed back to the lounge where Arizona had already left. My laptop was where I had left it. I threw myself into the chair that Arizona had been sitting in. Now my mind was firing for ideas. How could I solve this problem? Should I get involved and try to help my sister and Arizona? Or should I stay out of it for fear of being killed? I decided that I couldn't make this decision on an empty stomach. I headed to the cafeteria.

While walking towards the counter to pay, I saw Arizona. She was buying coffee. I waved to try to get her attention but she didn't see me.

"Yo, Robbins." I called to her. She turned to face me and smiled before walking over.

"Hey. How'd it go talking to your sister?"

"She yelled at me and then threatened to rip my mouth off."

"Well, then." She said, not seeming to be too shocked.

"Have you talked to her?"

"Yeah, a few minutes ago." She sighed. "I made the mistake of saying it was 'awesome' again."

"Damn."

"I know." She mumbled. "I've got to get back to work. I'll see you later." I nodded as she walked away in the least-cheery mood I'd ever seen her.

**-x-x-x-**

A few hours later, I was wandering the halls, hoping to come across someone I could talk to. According to the nurses, everyone was in surgery. Apparently there was some huge trauma and some guy had been hit by a bus and dragged some distance. From what the nurses told me, the guy was banged up so bad that they couldn't even identify him. They also told me that this John Doe had only gotten hit by the bus because he was pushing this girl out of the way. I wondered if that was an act of heroism that Callie would consider to be 'awesome' but even I wasn't enough of a smartass to mess with her about it.

I dragged myself back into the lounge for what seemed like the twentieth time that day. I had hid my laptop underneath a couch pillow and was slightly relieved when I found it still there. I dove onto the couch, placing my laptop on the table where I couldn't accidentally kick it onto the floor. Bored to near insanity, I dug around between the couch cushions until I found the TV remote. I clicked through a few channels but much like the Wi-Fi connection, the cable selection sucked. I ended up on a news channel, watching some story about dolphin hunting in Japan. Halfway into hearing about how a bunch of hippies were protesting dolphin-slaughter, Arizona came through the door.

"Hey, Dimples." I said. She sat in the same chair as earlier.

"What's up, Catalina?" She asked.

"How come you aren't in surgery on this John Doe case everyone else is on?"

"You're forgetting that I'm a pediatric doctor."

"Oh, right." There was a few seconds of silence as Arizona went through some paperwork that she had brought with her. "Did you talk to my sister?" I asked after the dolphin story was over and there was a commercial showing.

"Mhm-hmm." She didn't look up.

"And?"

"I sort of snapped on her, telling her that I _did_ think it was awesome because my baby brother died in Iraq because there weren't enough doctors and that I thought George O'Malley was _awesome_ for doing it. I tried to storm off but she grabbed my hand and said she was sorry and well, here we are."

"Oh." I responded quietly. More silence ensued. After a few moments, Arizona finally looked up at me.

"Don't worry, though," She stated. "We'll fix things." I nodded, hoping she was right.

The next few minutes were ones I'd never forget. Arizona and I were the only two that were in the lounge. It was quiet. The only noises were Arizona flipping through the pages of the chart she had and the very dull sound of the news playing in the background. I settled back into my previously comfortable position, sprawled across the couch lazily, my eyes glued to whatever was that day's top news story. It couldn't have been more than ten seconds before the door to the lounge flew open. My sister staggered a few feet into the room, then appeared to look around to see who else was in it. When I looked up, I saw that her face was red and streaked with tears. I shot straight up as soon as I saw this. I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong but she cut me off.

"George is dead." She said in a tone that I could barely identify. She hadn't screamed it nor did she say it quietly. My brain was trying to process this when Callie started to cry as she tried to explain the rest of the story. She spoke so fast that her words seemed to mesh together. I only could understand bits and pieces of what Callie was saying but I understood the one main factor; George O'Malley was dead. _He_ was the John Doe. _He_ had saved that girl from that bus and now he was dead. My chest was tightening with every word Callie managed to cry. As she explained further and virtually unintelligible, the color drained from my sister's face. Arizona, who had listened to the first few sentences of Callie's story while keeping her composure had now rushed to Callie's side, trying her best to console her.

I tried my best to make sense of all of this. George O'Malley was dead. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to be feeling but whatever it was that I actually _was_ feeling confused me. Arizona had Callie in her arms, leaning against the wall so she wouldn't fall to the ground. Callie, who seemed to be holding onto Arizona for dear life, sobbed into Arizona's shoulder. Again, I tried to speak, but words were failing me. My voice seemed to be scared to come out. I couldn't bear to see my sister like this. Luckily, someone else saw this.

"Catalina," A voice called to me softly. I looked out into the hallway to see Meredith standing. She was crying too but much less noticeably than my sister. Still wordless, I went to her. "You just looked like you needed to get out of there." She said, visibly trying to contain herself. "Go to the bathroom, wash your face, get it together and then go help your sister." Her eyes filled with tears as she finished her sentence. I was pretty sure, based on what stories Callie had told me, that Meredith was really good friends with George. I acted without thinking and pulled Meredith into a hug, despite her reputation of being dark and twisty and not the kind of person that hugs anyone. She hugged me back, now crying. A few seconds later, Meredith was approached by a taller guy with dark hair and dark blue scrubs. I was pretty sure it was her fiancé. I took a step back and he embraced her. Now she was crying almost as bad as Callie, though I had taken off down the hallway and to the bathroom, trying to run from this tragedy that had completely taken over everything and everyone.

Fortunately for me, the bathroom was empty. The fluorescent lights above burned brightly and let off an irritating mechanical buzz. I rested all my weight on the counter as I leaned towards the mirror. I was sweating and generally looked like I had just seen a ghost or something. I splashed my face with cold water, hoping that would do the slightest good. It didn't but now at least I looked somewhat healthy. I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to will myself into going back out there. _Pull yourself together, Catalina, _I told myself sternly. _Stop your whining. This has nothing to do with you. You have to get out there and be strong for your sister. Go. Now!_

I had no choice but to listen to myself. I re-entered the hallway, putting one foot in front of the other until I reached the lounge. Things were slightly different now. Arizona was in the hallway, Meredith and her fiancé were in the nearby waiting room, sitting on one of the couches, and there were a few more doctors gathered by the nurses' station. They all looked like hell, most of them either in tears or very close to it.

"What's going on, now?" I asked, my first four words since any of this had begun.

"Izzie Stevens just died." Arizona choked.

"No." I said, shaking my head. "No, no, no. You've got to be kidding me." I kicked the nurses' station, hard, now knowing that upon entering that lounge, my sister would be in more emotional pain than any human being should be. "This can't be happening. There's no way." I tried hard to swallow the lump in my throat but it didn't seem to want to go down. Arizona crouched down slightly and looked me in the eye, grabbing onto my shoulders.

"Listen to me, Catalina." She said firmly. "I just got paged 911, one of my patients is in trouble. You need to go in there with your sister."

"I can't go in there, Arizona." I replied timidly. I bit my lip. "I can't."

"You have to." She answered. "Callie needs you. Do it for her." She took off quickly down the hall way, towards the pediatric wing. I braced myself before taking a step into the lounge. Callie was still leaning against the wall. I stood in the door way a good couple of seconds, unable to move. Callie essentially collapsed, sliding down the wall that she had been using for support. She sat on the floor, bringing her knees to her chest and burying her head in her arms. I stood uneasily a few feet from her, unsure of what to do. I collected myself quickly and ran to my sister's side. I tried to contain the fact that it felt like my heart was being torn from my chest. I dropped beside her, wrapping my arms tightly around her, trying to console her, though it seemed impossible. She lifted her head from her arms and looked up at me, tears streaming down her face. She raised her arms and pulled me into a hug. Her arms were around me so tightly that I knew she wasn't planning on letting go of me. That was okay with me because I wasn't planning on leaving. Seeing Callie like this was killing me. She cried into my t-shirt, soaking my sleeve with tears quickly. I wished that there was something that I could've done to help her.

We sat on the floor in the lounge for a half hour or so. Callie didn't stop crying the entire time. She had tried to speak more than once but she was unable to say any actual words. Arizona had come back after a while but left again to get Callie some water. After some time had passed, Callie looked up at me.

"George is gone, Catalina." She said very quietly. "Izzie is gone."

"I know, sweetie." I whispered. "I know." She rested her head back on my arm. When I blinked, one tear rolled down my cheek. I hoped to myself that Callie hadn't seen it.

**-x-x-x-**

We eventually made it home that night. It was late. The rain had barely subsided. Callie, still an emotional wreck and in more pain than she could take, went into the bathroom. I asked Arizona about this.

"You know what, Catalina?" She thought aloud. "Meredith told me about this. She said that when Izzie's fiancé died a few years ago, Izzie laid on the bathroom floor for like two or three days and refused to leave. Maybe Callie's planning on doing what Izzie did."

"Maybe." I said. I sat at in one of the kitchen chairs and put my head down on the table. "This sucks." I mumbled after a moment.

"I know it does." She sighed. "I'm going to run home and grab a few things and then I'll come back, alright?"

"Sure." I said.

Arizona headed to her place and I went into the guestroom. I searched for where I had put my pajamas that morning but it seemed that everything before George and Izzie died was a blur to me. I dove onto my bed and searched under the blankets but found nothing. I hung off the foot of my bed and dug through the pile of dirty clothes that never made it to the hamper. I reached down and grabbed an armful of clothes.

And now, I was crying. Because in my hands were the jean shorts that I had worn to the hospital a day or two before and the pen that George had given me was in the pocket.

* * *

**Let him know that you know best,**  
'**Cause after all, you do know best.  
Try to slip past his defense,  
Without granting innocence,  
Lay down a list of what is wrong,  
Things you told him all along,  
Pray to God he hears you,  
And pray to God he hears you,  
**

**Where did I go wrong?  
I lost a friend,  
Somewhere along in the bitterness,  
And I would have stayed up with you all night,  
Had I known how to save a life.**


	6. See Me Through

**Let me apologize in advance for this chapter...I'm sorry. It sucks. Really, really bad. I got stuck like less than halfway through and just winged the rest of it...so, I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I promise, it'll get better...just bear with me. Please. Don't judge this fan fiction based on this chapter...sorry.  


* * *

**  
I had stopped crying and washed my face before Arizona got back. I had to wash my face in the kitchen sink because Callie had locked the bathroom door. I knocked but got no response and when I put my ear to the door, all I heard was crying. I was making coffee when Arizona came through the front door holding a few bags. Neither of us said anything for a few minutes. Arizona brought her bags into the living room as I got a cup out of the cabinet.

"Do you want coffee, Arizona?"

"Sure." She replied. She sat at the table as I poured her a cup, then placed it in front of her. "Thanks." I sat in the chair across from her. Again, no one said anything. I chalked the silence up to the fact that it had been a long day and that emotions were still on edge.

"What happens now?" I asked, finally.

"Now Callie takes some time off," Arizona sighed. "I talked to the Chief before we left the hospital today. Apparently, he's smarter than everyone gives him credit for. He knows all about Izzie and George and how they relate to Callie. He's letting her take a leave of absence for a little while." I leaned back in my chair.

"What happened between Callie, George and Izzie?" Arizona took a sip of her coffee.

"You don't know?" I shook my head.

"I only know the basic story." I replied honestly. Arizona thought about this for a moment.

"Okay, well, Callie dated George for a while and ended up running off to Vegas and marrying him. Now, the thing with Izzie was that her and Callie never got along. Like, even from the beginning, there was a little bit of a battle for George's attention. Actually, I think that Callie and Meredith didn't like each other munch either at first." She stared at the cup in front of her as she told me the story. "Well, anyway, the point is that one night after Callie and George were married, they had a little fight and George ran to Izzie because they were still best friends. They both got trashed and ended up sleeping together."

"Damn." I said quietly when she had finished. Arizona folded her hands on the table.

"Yeah," She began once more. "And then it became a whole big thing. Apparently Izzie felt guilty and tried to apologize this one time and Callie told her off and then Callie and George got divorced and then Izzie and George become a couple. It's been one big mess ever since." I sighed, resting my elbow on the table and my chin in my palm. "And a few weeks ago, back when everyone first found out that Izzie was sick, she confessed to me that back when George was cheating on her, she wished Izzie dead, like a lot."

"Well I guess that's understandable." I said with a shrug.

"Callie doesn't seem to think so." Another brief moment of silence ensued as we both had run out of things to say. I leaned my chair back so it was balancing on two legs and looked down the hallway. The bathroom door was, of course, still closed.

"You should go talk to her." I suggested. "She wouldn't open the door for me but my guess is that she'd let you in."

"You think so?" I nodded. Arizona sighed, probably dreading seeing Callie this hysterical. She walked down the hallways slowly. My guess was that she was trying to think of what to say if Callie opened the door. She knocked twice and when she got no response, she spoke. "Cal, it's me."

There was a slight pause but the bathroom door eventually opened and Arizona glanced at me before taking a step in and shutting it behind her. I sat in suspense for a while. When it was clear to me that Arizona wouldn't be returning to the living room anytime soon, I crashed on the couch falling asleep immediately in an unintentional, uncomfortable position. I awoke to Arizona entering the kitchen. As soon as I opened my eyes, I realized that my entire body was sore from sleeping on it weird.

Once my clouded vision and mind came into focus, I had a few questions. 1. What time was it? 2. How long had I been asleep? 3. Was Callie still in the bathroom? 4. Why did Arizona look so upset? I answered the first two by easily looking up at the digital clock above the TV. It was 1:18 in the morning and I had been asleep for a little over an hour.

I rolled off the couch and staggered to my feet, yawning and rubbing my eyes in a cliché display of exhaustion. I turned my attention to Arizona who was sitting at the kitchen table, her elbows rested on her knees and her head in her hands.

"Hey," I said groggily. "What's wrong?" When she raised her head, I saw that she wasn't crying but seemed awfully close to it. She looked up at me.

"Sorry," She sighed. "It's just really hard to see her like that." I stood uncomfortably a moment, partially because most of my body was aching or numb and partially because I was bad at things like this and I had no idea what to say to her.

"Is she any better from earlier?" I asked finally, pretty much deciding that it was stupid question as soon as I said it.

"Worse than earlier." She answered, now looking at the floor.

"Damn." I mumbled. Now I was looking at my feet, trying to avoid this conversation entirely. I awkwardly made my way into the kitchen, throwing open the fridge door. The bright light and cold air hit my face at the same time causing me to flinch. After staring at the gallon of milk carton for so long that it had stopped looking like an object, I pulled my head back and looked to Arizona. "Do you want something to eat?" I asked. "I could make us dinner but my only specials include cereal, microwave soup and slightly burned grilled cheese."

Arizona laughed softly which made at least a little bit of the emotional tension disappear. I wished that all else that happened today would disappear, also. Arizona declined on my dinner offer, then stood from her chair and crashed on the couch. I closed the fridge door and sat beside her. She was staring straight ahead; her blue eyes didn't seem to be fixated on anything in particular.

"Are you alright?" She shook her head. "What did you and Callie talk about?" I asked. She kept staring for a while before looking down at me, like she hadn't heard the question originally and had just realized what I said.

"We didn't talk that much." She finally answered quietly. "She just cried mostly. She tried to talk a few times but…" Her voice trailed off towards the end of the sentence. I could tell that she didn't really want to discuss it. She sank down lower on the couch, kicking her feet up on the coffee table. She rested her head on my shoulder. "Are you going to go talk to her?" The thought of this made my stomach turn.

"I don't know if I should." I said, half-whispering. "I don't think she wants to talk to me, anyway. She didn't open the door before." Arizona looked up at me.

"I think you should." I thought back to earlier in the day, back in the lounge when everything had first happened. Callie that upset and crying that hard, it broke my heart. As selfish as it sounded, I couldn't bring myself to go talk to her because I wasn't sure if I could take it. I felt like a bad person for it. "She needs you, Catalina." I stared at the floor.

"I don't know." I said quietly.

"Hey," She said, sitting up straight and putting her hand on my shoulder and making eye contact with me. "I know it's hard, okay? It's tough to see her like this. It's heartbreaking. But as hard as it is for us, it's about a hundred times harder for her. And she needs us." I knew she was right.

"I really don't think she wants me in there," I responded slowly, probably trying to convince myself as I said it.

"Yes she does." Arizona said without hesitation. "You're her sister. She needs you more than she needs me." Somehow, I wasn't entirely sure that was true. In my mind, Arizona was more important to Callie than I was.

"Then how come she let you in the bathroom and not me?" Arizona sighed.

"Well, I think that she doesn't want her baby sister to see her this broken up." I thought about this a moment. It made sense, though I didn't really want to believe it. It came down to the simple fact that I felt that I wasn't strong enough to comfort Callie without falling apart.

"What if I can't? What if I'm not strong enough?" My questions sounded ridiculous in my mind, but Arizona was wiser than I once assumed.

"You'll find that you're stronger than you think when you're trying to help someone you love." She said, flashing me a slight smile with a small sign of her infamous dimples. "You can do this, Catalina. I promise." I believed her. I took a deep breath before standing up, looking down at her quickly, then taking a step forward, towards the hallway. I stared at my feet as I walked. In my mind, the hallway seemed to be getting longer and longer with each step like some dumb movie effect. I just focused on putting one foot in front of the other, making my way very slowly to the bathroom door.

My mind was desperately racing, searching for something to say when Callie opened the door. _If_ she opened the door. I wasn't sure whether or not I wanted her to open it. Everything Arizona had said was true. Callie needed me to step up and be strong for her. But everything that I thought, all the negative things, all the fear and the uncertainty in my strength, that could very well be true, too. I wished that I was better at things like this. I wished I knew what to say in situations like these. I wished I had more time to think. Before I knew it, I had reached my destination. I was standing at the bathroom door. I stared at it for a moment, thinking maybe Callie knew I was there without me having to knock.

What would I say? I stood there, my arms hanging limply at my sides, my eyes staring so hard at the door that I thought I could burn a hole through the wood. My sister was on the other side of that door. My sister who had, in the same day, had witnessed the death of her ex-husband and the woman who her ex-husband cheated on her with, an event that was tragic, confusing and probably more painful than I could ever imagine. I had seen Callie cry her eyes out just a few hours before. She held onto me and cried for a long time while I tried to comfort her and make her feel better. I wasn't sure if I had failed or succeeded. I wasn't sure if I'd fail or succeed this time, either. If I failed, I feared that I would be doing more harm than good. I almost felt as if I couldn't comfort her, not after what she had been through. But as her sister, I couldn't just sit by and do nothing.

I didn't let my mind wonder about these things for a moment longer. I took another deep breath, swallowed hard. I brought my right hand up to the bathroom door and knocked three times.

* * *

**See me through, see me through,  
This aching heart has come so far,  
To be with, see me through,  
With angel eyes, just look inside,  
At all this love I never want to lose,  
See me through.**

**(The song has nothing to do with this chapter, maily because this chapter wasn't based off of a song. It was just what was playing on my iPod when I finished & published it.)**

(Oh, on another note, I wrote a one-shot a while back, called 'I'm Yours' and I really liked it but it got ZERO reviews and that makes me really sad. So while I'm against fan fic authors asking for reviews and stuff, if any of you could go read it and tell me what you think, I'd be so so so happy. :D -Ktk)  



	7. Close

**Another sad attempt at a chapter (though about two hundred times better than the last one…I really am sorry about that). This is pretty much thrown together due to my over-estimation of my skills. But at least I'm getting some stuff done so I can post those awesome chapters that I keep promising you guys. **

**(I'm not lying to get you to keep reading. The problem is that, when I was writing 'Is Forever Enough?', I was really pre-occupied with ideas for this one. And now that I'm here, I'm pre-occupied with future ideas. It's a sickness, truly. There's really good stuff coming, it's just taking me years and years to get it up because my mind does eight billion things at once…like rambling.) **

**Stick with me. The high-quality stuff is coming. (Try to) Enjoy!

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**

_It was a nurse who told me that Denny Duquette had died. I barely had time to process it before she was barking at me to go get Meredith. I peeked into one of the exam rooms (after looking everywhere else I could think of) and saw Meredith Grey in the shadows. I opened the door to find her with none other than Derek 'McDreamy' Shepherd. I let the fact that I had just completely busted an out-of-breath and half-way dressed Meredith and Derek slip my mind so I could focus on why I had come to find her in the first place._

"_The nurse told me to come find you," I said to Meredith. "You have to come now. It's Izzie." Meredith glanced up at Derek then took a few steps out the door. "Wait, wait." I called, noticing that the ties on the back of her dress were undone. "Okay, go." I said after retying them. I shot Derek a dirty look then followed behind her. _

_I don't know why we were running. We all knew what we were going to find. Nothing was going to change if we got there faster. George and Cristina arrived at Denny's room at the exact second that Meredith and I did. Olivia was standing outside, looking terrified._

"_What happened" George asked, coming to a stop before her._

"_I didn't know what to do." She stammered. "I didn't think you guys would want me to go the Chief but-."_

"_Where is she?" Cristina interrupted._

"_She's in there with him." Olivia answered meekly. _

_The four of us entered Denny's room to find Izzie, wearing her pink prom dress with her hair all done up, laying beside a lifeless Denny, her head nestled in his neck and her hand on his chest._

"_Izzie…" Cristina said quietly._

"_I think it was a stroke." Izzie finally said, half-whispering. Her words cut through the silence. "He was prone to blood clots. A clot could've formed on his sutures, traveled to his brain. It only takes a second."_

"_Iz," Meredith spoke softly._

"_Dr. Hahn did a beautiful job on the surgery." Izzie continued. "But I don't know why I didn't think of blood clots." There was a pause as Izzie took a breath. "He died all alone." I swallowed hard, trying to rid my throat of the lump that was urging me, and probably everyone else in the room that was experiencing the exact same thing, to cry. "He was alone."_

"_There was nothing you could've done." George stated._

"_I changed my dress three times." Izzie admitted slowly. "I wanted to look nice. I would've been here sooner but I couldn't figure out what dress to wear." George took a step closer to her._

"_Izzie," He began. "We shouldn't be in here."_

"_Iz, there are things that they need-" Meredith started. "They need to move him."_

"_Take him to the morgue." Izzie whispered. Cristina now took a step forward._

"_You can't stay here." She said. "I know you want to-"_

"_Can you please, please, just get out?" Izzie begged quietly. "I want to be alone with Denny."_

"_Izzie, that's not Denny." A voice called out from behind us._

"_Shut up," Izzie answered, closing her eyes and holding Denny's body closer. Meredith and I stepped aside to let Alex Karev enter the room. He walked to her bedside._

"_Iz, that's not Denny." He whispered, very softly. "The minute his heart stopped beating, he stopped being Denny. Now, I know you love him, but he also loved you. And a guy that loves you like that, he doesn't want you to do this to yourself. Because it's not Denny; not anymore."_

_Everyone fell silent a minute. I looked around the room, quickly, just to see how the others were reacting. George and Cristina were standing on the same side of the bed, just looking down to Izzie. Meredith was beside me, looking to be on the verge of tears and not trying her best to hide it. Olivia was behind us both, watching in shock. Alex was the only person who seemed to be all-together. _

"_An hour ago, he was proposing." Izzie whispered. "And now he's…and now he's going to the morgue. Isn't that ridiculous?" Her voice was breaking. " Isn't that the most ridiculous piece of crap that you've ever heard?" She cried. She held onto Denny's body, now sobbing._

"_Come on," Alex whispered, leaning down to her._

_Every single person in that room was feeling their heart break, now. Even I, who had never gotten along with Izzie, was feeling the effect. George looked away. Cristina, a woman who seemingly had not an emotion in her body, almost a robotic soul, was visibly upset. Meredith was about to cry. Alex lifted Izzie into his arms and sat in the chair a few feet behind him. He held her as she cried into his shoulder, the rest of us trying to contain our own emotion. I felt bad. It wasn't sympathy; I didn't feel sorry for Izzie. It was empathy. This extreme sadness, what all of us were feelings, was coming from the fact that we felt what Izzie was feeling. And we were all thinking the same thing. This wasn't fair._

I didn't know why this kept replaying through my mind. I was leaning against the bathroom wall. It was uncomfortable but I could barely feel it. I had been physically numb since the moment that George died. I was in the OR. I was there with him. He flat-lined. They tried to revive him. They tried everything. Owen and Derek are great doctors but there was nothing they could do. There was too much damage. As a doctor, I knew this. I knew it back when we all still thought he was John Doe. I knew John Doe was a goner. But then, out of nowhere, he was George. He was my ex-husband. He was my friend. So when I knew, when I knew, standing in that OR, that he was going to die, I was dreading the fateful words that I knew were coming.

"Time of death, 22:48." Derek said, in a tone that I'd never heard before. Everyone else in the OR was in shock. I reacted almost immediately. I collapsed. I fell to my knees. I couldn't breathe. Owen, who was beside me, fell to my side. He helped me tear off my surgical mask, in hopes that I could get some air into my lungs. My one hand was clutching my chest and my other was squeezing Owen's arm as hard as I could. Meredith must've panicked because she just bolted from the room, slamming the door behind her. Derek followed soon behind. Owen helped me into the hallway where I steadied myself between him and the wall until my legs stopped shaking. When I was able to stand on my own, I ran and found Arizona and Catalina.

And now here I was, locked in a bathroom, unable to control a single thought or tear. I knew that I wouldn't be going through that stage when a death doesn't quite hit you right away. Part of being a doctor meant that you learn to deal with things as soon as they happen so that you can put them behind you. I hated that part. It hit me as soon as Derek had said 'time of death'. There was no doubt in my mind for even a second, like most people who lose someone suddenly. This wasn't like a patient had died, a stranger that I could put behind me. This was George. As much as I would've liked to, I couldn't just cut off my emotions. Not this time. But, I felt as if I should. It was one part of being a doctor that I wished would just have an off-switch.

The confusing part was that I was unable to decipher my emotions. As far as George's death went, it was simple. I was crushed, depressed and devastated. I loved George. He was the first man I was ever truly in love with. It was more painful than anything I'd ever felt, but at least I understood it. My feelings on Izzie Stevens, however, were where my mind was jumbled into a tangle of mixed emotions. I had hated her so much and for so long that I wasn't quite sure how to feel when I heard that she died. Granted, when the news that she had cancer hit the hospital gossip mill, I felt a single emotion only; guilt. As I had told Arizona, I used to wish Izzie would die. It was a simple thought that, at the time, seem validated, almost excusable. But a year and a half later, when I was cooled off and my cancer-stricken ex-enemy was actually in a position where she very well could die, my mindset changed. It became impossible to rationalize my past wishes. I wasn't sure what I was feeling, but it was crippling.

I had stopped crying, feeling emotional numbness for a short period of time. Now I was just starting straight ahead, no actual thoughts were crossing through my mind. The scene of Izzie laying beside Denny's body. I still didn't know why that's what was on my mind, but it was. I was far too tired to try to force myself into other thoughts. I kept myself together for, what I thought was, about five minutes. Then I felt more tears coming. I was sick of crying. It had been hours of non-stop crying. It wasn't a great feeling. I wanted Arizona. She had managed to make me feel better, at least for the time that she was in with me. But if I knew Arizona like I thought I did, she was probably talking to my sister. Catalina had knocked a few minutes before Arizona did. I still wasn't sure why I didn't open the door for her.

In place of tears, my mind had begun to race back and forth between thoughts; Izzie and George, Arizona and Catalina, guilt and depression. I slumped down where I sat, pressing the back of my head hard against the wall and staring at the ceiling. I blinked away tears that soon slid down my cheeks. My only thought now was simple; how could this have happened? Before my mind could think of some sort of response to my own question, I heard a knock at the bathroom door. I turned to face it, assuming whoever was there was just going to walk in. But they didn't. Now, I was stuck with the decision of whether or not to open it. I was pretty much one-hundred-percent sure that it was Catalina. I silently tried to settle on what I wanted to do. It didn't take me that long. I lifted myself from where I sat, reached towards the door and opened it.

* * *

'**Til the tears take over,  
She's still in hell,  
But she tells herself,  
She's ready to let him go. **

**(Okay, so the song doesn't fit as well as I imagined that it would, but give me a break; I'm tired and school drains me!)**

**(Sorry if this stopped making sense and started sounding ramble-y at a point; I was trying to crack 2,000 words!!)**


	8. You Found Me

**Okay. So, it took a month to get this one up. Honestly, I was waiting on some reviews…reviews that never really showed up…**

**Moving on. **

**So the Grey's Anatomy premiere was a few weeks. Okay, no offense if you liked it but I personally thought it sucked and was so disappointed that I wanted to cry or break something (when you considering throwing your cell phone through your nice, flat screen HD TV, you know there's a problem with what's being broadcast). **

**Yeah, okay, everyone grieves differently. Whatever. I am **_**not not not not**_** writing this fan fiction based on what happened in the premiere. I have a set plan and I am sticking to it, regardless of what was shown last Thursday. (So, no merger, No Callie going to Mercy West, no pretty much anything you saw on TV)**

**The **_**only**_ **thing that I will be bringing from the episode into the fic is what we learned about Arizona's background. Other than that, no. Consider this fic to be separate from the show altogether (aside from, you know, the characters, setting and past plot…)**

**Oh, one last thing I just remembered. I was watching a repeat of Grey's and Callie mentioned 'her sister Aria'. Yeah. Well, I did not know that. And there is no Aria.  
Oops? There is a Gina and there is a Catalina. They're better anyway, yes? I thought so too.**

**

* * *

**

I was stunned when the bathroom door opened before me but took a shaky step inside. Callie was sitting, slouched against the wall directly to my right. She didn't look like herself. She looked exhausted. Her eyes were red and her face was streaked with tears. It was pretty much what I was expecting. I clicked the door shut behind me. I slid down the wall and sat about a foot away from her.

She didn't say anything. Neither did I. I desperately searched the vocabulary banks in my brain for something that at least sounded competent. I, of course, couldn't think of anything. So instead, I just listened to the crickets that were outside. I kind of hated crickets. I hated that they were used as representations of silence. And I also hated silence. We had to have sat there for ten or fifteen minutes before I worked up the courage to say anything.

"There really isn't anything I can say," I began half-whispering. "There isn't anything I can say or do that can make you feel any better, is there?" She took a deep breath (though you could tell that she had just barely stopped crying since she could hardly breathe in without it breaking up into gasps). She just shook her head. The silence had returned. The only noise, besides the crickets, was my sister crying softly while at the same time trying to catch her breath. Never before in my life had I ever felt so useless. I just stared straight ahead, not allowing myself to be angry over my own lack of words.

"I'm sorry, Callie." I said after what seemed like hours of endless silence. "I'm sorry that Izzie and George died. I'm sorry that you're in this much pain. I'm sorry I can't help you." Callie shifted a bit before she titled back more on my shoulder.

"I don't know what to do." She whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"Now that George is gone. And Izzie. I just don't know how I'm supposed to-" Her voice trailed off when she reached the last word but she didn't finish her sentence. "I don't know how to function. Everything is different. Everything."

"Well, you don't have to function." I answered. "The chief gave you time off for a reason. You're not supposed to be able to function right now." A few seconds past with no words being spoken.

"I give patients' families bad news all the time." She said softly. "It's weird being on this side." Again, I didn't know how to respond. "And, there's this memory."

"What memory?"

"This memory. It's more like a scene." She whispered. "Of when Izzie's fiancé, Denny, died. It's all I can think about. We were all there; Meredith, Cristina, Alex, George and me. We were all in the room. And she was just laying there, beside Denny's body. And I just can't get it out of my head. And I don't know why." This one the one moment of clarity that I felt the entire night.

"Well," I began slowly. "It's probably because that's the only non-work related death that you witnessed where Izzie and George were involved too." I stopped to think about what I just said. "That make sense?" She didn't answer and the silence began again.

My thoughts were frantic and messy. I tried to put myself in Callie's position, trying to use vicarious empathy to imagine what would comfort me if I was in this state of crushing devastation or confusion. When I put it into those words in my head, I realized that there weren't any anything to be said for what was happening and if it were me, I would just want someone to sit with. My guess was the Callie wanted the same thing; someone to sit with, someone to vent to, a shoulder to cry on.

I figured that I should just shut up, stop trying to think of something to say and provide my sister with what I believed was the best method of helping her. I got up from where I was seated and moved closer to where she was, placing myself between her and the wall. She leaned back, her back up against my chest and the back of her head rested on my right shoulder. I wrapped my arms tightly around my sister (granted, the Torres family was never big on hugging but even I, product of the emotional wasteland that is my family, knows that hugs help people who are crying, or, in Callie's case, who were about to cry).

"Holy shit," Callie said quietly, though I wasn't sure she was addressing me specifically. "George really is dead, Catalina." Her voice has broken mid-sentence and she started to cry. I sat motionlessly as well as wordlessly, though my heart was breaking. I don't know how long I sat with her. She cried for most of it. Some unknown amount of time passed before Callie convinced me to leave. Once she stopped crying (barely), she told me that she was okay and that I should try to get some sleep. I didn't really believe that she was okay but I wasn't in a particularly pushy mood and didn't want to make her more upset by staying.

My back was sore when I stood up and I figured it was because we had been sitting their for so long. Whatever, I told myself. It didn't matter. I closed the door quietly behind me and walked down the dimly lit hallway. It seemed to be a shorter walk this time. Arizona was sitting at the kitchen table, her hands folded, looking unhappy, to say the least. In front of her were a box of doughnuts and a pack of cigarettes. I raised an eyebrow.

"How long was I in there?" I asked, eying seemingly odd items before her. She looked up at me, looking confused, then looked down and realized what I meant.

"Oh, right, these." She said unfolding her hands and running her fingers through her blonde hair. I notice that she had changed her clothes while I was in the bathroom and now wore plaid pajama pants and a white t-shirt. "When my brother died, I ate doughnuts." She shook her head and shrugged. "I thought it might help Callie." I sat down in the chair beside her.

"And the cigarettes?" I pondered.

"I smoke." She said. "Rarely. Very rarely, actually. I haven't smoked since Mikey died." The plastic wrap on the pack of cigarettes was still intact. She let out a sigh as she ran her finger across the small cardboard package. "I probably won't even smoke these."

"You okay?" I asked, resting an elbow on the table.

"Yeah," She said with a nod. "I'm okay." She wasn't making eye-contact with me which made me believe further that she, like Callie, wasn't okay.

"So how long _was_ I in there?"

"Almost two hours." I looked up at the clock. A little past three in the morning, I thought.

"How is she?" Arizona finally asked. I was pretty sure that she had wanted to ask it the second I came out of the bathroom. I was realizing that this whole situation was hurting her for two reasons. The first one was obvious; this reminded her of her brother dying. And the second, I had accidentally let slip my mind. Callie was Arizona's girlfriend. Arizona cared about her a lot. And Arizona knew exactly the kind of pain Callie was in and how crushing it really was. And that was breaking Arizona's heart as much as it was breaking mine. Well, probably even more considering she felt the same wounds not too long ago.

"Not that great," I replied disappointedly. "She spent most the time I was in there crying her eyes out." I looked to Arizona who still hadn't looked me in the face. She was staring at the cigarettes, her finger still tracing the outline of the wrapper. "Do you want to go talk to her again?" I asked. No response. "Maybe you want to go sit with her a while?" Again, no response. "Arizona." I could tell that she didn't want to answer and I wasn't going to force her too. Instead, I just put my hand on her shoulder. She didn't react but I knew that she probably wanted to say something. "Hang in there, Arizona." I said quietly, and then walked back into the living room, laying on the couch for a moment's rest. I wasn't planning on falling asleep but I did and when I woke up a few hours later, there was a blanket over me.

The clock said it was 7:45. It wasn't like back home in Florida where you knew it was morning because sunlight shone in from every window. This was Seattle and the weather was emotionally appropriate; rain pouring down, sky a dark grey and with a temperature that didn't make me think much of summer. It didn't feel like June. Despite the not-so-sunny outside world, I had the urge to get up. And for that moment when my mind was focused on the weather, I forgot about Izzie and George and Callie and Arizona and Mikey. But then it all came flooding back at once and hit me like a ton of bricks. My urge to get up was gone.

I sat up, blinking away the blurry vision that goes hand-in-hand with just waking up. I looked over my shoulder to see Arizona in the kitchen.

"Morning." I yawned to her.

"Oh, you're up." She said. "Did I wake you?"

"No." I replied, walking into the kitchen. "What are you doing?"

"I have to go to work." She answered, exhaustedly. "I was going to just call in sick because of all this but when I talked to the Chief, he said that a lot of people aren't in today because of the same reason and I have a lot of important cases with lots of sick children who need me and even though Callie needs me here I still need to go save some lives because this whole ordeal is making the feeling of death and darkness very constant and I am not a dark person by nature and-" She was rambling and trying to gather her things all at the same time. She was speaking so quickly that I couldn't understand a word she was saying. I grabbed her by her shoulders.

"Stop talking and take a deep breath." I spoke loudly. She did as I told her and then tried again.

"I have to work today and I'm putting you in charge of your sister, who still hasn't left the bathroom." I stared at her for a while, blinking in confusion and hopefully misunderstanding.

"Please tell me you're kidding."

"I wish I was, Catalina." She said, pulling on her jacket. "But I have to work. I'll try to get home as quickly as I can but until then, I need you to make sure Callie is alright." She pulled her bag over her shoulder. "Can you do that?" I think I must've grimaced because she smiled slightly. "Catalina, you'll be okay." She said and headed out the front door. I bit my lip. This was going to suck.

I decided that I'd get changed before going into check on Callie. I'm pretty sure that I only decided that so I could stall a little bit before going in the bathroom. Once I ran out of excuses for not checking on her (I got a drink of water, I did a load of laundry, I checked the Stanley Cup scores, I got the newspaper of the lawn and I changed my socks twice) I decided that I didn't have a choice. I approached the all-too-familiar bathroom door and knocked. This time, I received a verbal response.

"What?" She called, not very loudly but since the house was utterly soundless, I could hear her.

"You okay?" I asked, taking hold of the doorknob and taking a step in. It didn't seem as scary as it did the previous night. She was slouched against the opposite wall this time. She was still wearing the same clothes from the night before. "You okay?" I repeated.

"Yeah," She said quietly, wiping tears off her cheeks with her shirt sleeve.

"Have you left the bathroom yet?" I asked, using my right hand to support my weight against the doorframe. She shook her head. I stood where I was for a few moments, thinking that she'd say something and when she didn't, I decided to let her be. I went back into the living room where I was greeted with nothing more to do. I turned my attention back to more household chores. I did the dishes, folded the clean clothes, did a second load of laundry, swept the kitchen floor and changed my socks again (I didn't know why I kept doing this since it only killed about forty seconds).

I went to the fridge for something to drink but found that there was no soda. Since I was pretty sure that Callie had no intention of leaving the bathroom anytime soon, I decided I'd make a quick run to the store. I grabbed my skateboard, my jacket and my wallet and was halfway down the street when I realized I forgot my helmet but didn't feel like going back and silently hoped I wouldn't get hit by a car. Granted, I wasn't a hundred percent on what store I was planning on going to but I found a 7-Eleven on the corner about a little less than a mile away.

With a six-pack of Pepsi under my left arm, I tried to skate home without being run over by something. The sidewalk was still wet with rain water but at least it had stop coming down in buckets. I skated up the driveway and stashed my board on the porch. My helmet was on the floor in the kitchen and I wondered to myself how it had actually got there. I put the Pepsi in the fridge and before I could take another step, I was interrupted.

"Catalina!" My sister called loudly from the bathroom. I took off in a wind sprint down the hallway, coming to a dead stop in front of the bathroom door. Callie was sitting where she had been when I left, only now, she was sobbing.

"What's wr-" I tried to speak.

"Where were you?" She cried. "You weren't here. I called you. Where were you?" I was confused.

"I just went to the store." I tried to explain. "I didn't think that-" Callie continued to cry.

"You can't just leave." She said through gasps. "What if something happened to you? What if you got hurt? Or killed? How was I supposed to know? I can't lose you, too, Catalina!" Despite the fact that this was all being said through hysterical sobs, I was starting to understand why she was upset.

"Okay, okay." I said, sitting beside her and wrapping my arms around her. "I'm sorry. I'm here now, it's okay." I spent a confusing half hour in the bathroom with her before she calmed down and I was free to roam the house again. I stopped in her bedroom and grabbed her pajamas for her to change into. After that, I just stayed on the couch. I didn't move from the time I sat down until Arizona got home.

"Hey, Catalina." Arizona called softly behind me. "How'd it go today?"

"Not so good, Arizona." I answered. "Not so good." She sighed as she dropped her things by the door and sat beside me on the couch.

"I was afraid of that." She admitted.

The next four days played out exactly the same. Arizona had to work, leaving me to tend to Callie. Callie wouldn't leave the bathroom. She'd barely even talk to me. She'd cry or she'd utter a few words in a whisper but there was no actual conversing. Arizona and I were both starting to get worried. Every day I asked Callie if she wanted to leave the bathroom. And every day, she shook her head. On the fourth night, I wanted to get to get a little air. I asked Callie before leaving this time. When she gave me the OK, I headed out to the porch. I actually grabbed my helmet this time.

It had been pouring all day and night and the road and sidewalk were slippery. In the back of my mind, I knew I should be extra careful when skating but I was in a bad mood and screwing around by jumping curbs or doing tricks cheered me up. Where I was skating, I saw no cars. I figured that was because it was late. I was under a street light, about a half mile from Callie's house. I was jumping on and off the curb, trying to clear my mind.

_I don't understand why this had to happen_, I thought angrily to myself as the wheels of my board slammed against the pavement. _Why should Callie have to go through this? Hasn't she been through enough?_ A rock shot out from under the wheels and cracked against the road. _And there's nothing Arizona and I can do to fix this. We just have to wait it out._ I put all my weight into the last jump up to the curb, but thanks to the rain and me not paying any attention to what I was doing, the wheels slid on one the wet concrete. I lost my balance and tumbled down to the road beneath me, my right knee striking the curb, hard. Pain shot through my bone as my board landed beside me. I didn't have to look down to know that I was bleeding. I was wearing sweatpants and I felt the blood soak through my pant leg. I glanced down. The dark red was spreading and damn it hurt. I struggled to my feel, picking up my board but wincing when I did it. I groaned, knowing it was a long trek home but started on my way, limping forward through the drizzle that was starting.

**-x-x-x-**

I sat with my back against the bathtub. Callie sat across from me, her back against the wall. She watched me as I laid beside me all the things I had gathered a moment before. The items placed beside me were appropriate considering I was still bleeding; rubbing alcohol, gauze, tape and a hand towel. The gash on my knee looked worse than it felt. I had picked out all the gravel when I first made it home (which stung like hell but at least it was out) but now I had to clean where my skin tore. I had my own type of first-aid, though. I put the hand towel on the floor beneath my knee and pulled up my pant leg so I could actually see the wound. Callie was watching me but not saying anything. I un-screwed the cap on the rubbing alcohol and poured it directly onto my knee. I could almost hear it burning. I guess I must've cringed or something because it caught Callie's attention.

"Doesn't that sting?" She asked in what little voice she had left. She had barely stopped crying in the last four and a half days.

"That's how you know it's working." I answered through clenched teeth. The towel I had previously used as a drop cloth beneath me had now become a rag as I used it to wipe up the rest of the blood on my knee. I barely let it dry before I wrapped the gauze tightly around my leg and taped it up.

"You have a high threshold for pain." She stated. She was wrapped in a navy blue hoodie (the bathroom got drafty). Her dark hair was wavy, draped over her shoulders effortlessly.

"I get hurt a lot between hockey and skating." I shrugged. "And, with hockey especially, you have to tape it up and get back in it, whether it hurts or not. Pain is something you can get used to." I thought about pain for a moment. I thought about how similar physical and emotional pain could be. I thought about how this could relate to my sister. "Pain is the body's way of letting you know that something is wrong." I said, and sighed. "Look, Callie, the thing about pain is that no matter how bad it seems, no matter how much it hurts, it will pass. I promise. I know it doesn't seem like it right now but even the most intense pain eventually passes. What you're feeling right now? It'll pass. I promise you that."

I pushed myself to my feet, putting a little weight on my right leg and seeing if I could stand on it. When I was certain of my knee's stability, I stood up straighter. I walked to my sister. "I promise you, the pain passes." And I leaned down and kissed my sister's forehead before extending my hand to her. "Come on, Cal." I whispered. "You're going to sleep in your own bed tonight." And she did. She took my hand and she stood up for the first time in a few days. I helped her into her room and I helped her into bed and I slept beside her that night. Maybe there was nothing that I could that would fix this at all, but maybe I could help my sister ease the pain at least for a little bit.

* * *

**Lost and insecure,  
You found me, you found me,  
Lying on the floor,  
Surrounded, surrounded,  
Why'd you have to wait?  
Where were you, where were you?  
Just a little late,  
You found me, you found me.**


	9. Easy Silence

**Phew, I wrote over 1,400 words in one day. The other 600 took about three weeks. In my defense, I had a KILLER English project due a few weeks ago and it took all my time (sort of). Well, whatever. I hope you guys like this one. It's kind of just a filler chapter. The really great stuff is coming very soon. Hope you all are excited (: Enjoy!**

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* * *

**"I don't understand it." Arizona said. She was sitting across from me at the kitchen table. "I tried everything. How did you get her out of the bathroom?"

"I am a master wordsmith." I answered. "Can I have another doughnut?" She handed me another doughnut. "Thank you."

"I just do not understand it." She muttered.

"You don't have to understand it." I replied through chews. "Just be happy that I made it happen." Arizona sighed and ran her fingers through her hair as she took a sip of coffee. "Look, if it makes you feel any better, the battle is kind of just beginning. We have to try to coax her out of her bedroom, now."

"Yeah, doesn't make me feel much better." She admitted.

"I didn't think it would." She stood up, putting her coffee cup in the sink, then grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair.

"Well, I have to work until eight tonight." She said, taking her purse from the seat of the same chair and placing it over her shoulder. "So, when I get back, we can talk about a game plan for getting Callie to leave."

"Sure thing." I answered. As soon as Arizona shut the front door, I pushed my chair out from the table and looked down at my knee. It hurt like crazy. I pulled up the gauze to take a look at it. I'm no doctor, I thought to myself, but that doesn't look very good. I pulled the bandages tighter and told myself that I'd re-clean it later on.

I headed down the hallway to Callie's room. Her bedroom door was open which I took as a good sign. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, pretty much just staring at the wall.

"Hey, Cal." I said, taking a few steps inside, putting my weight on my left knee rather than my right. She didn't respond. "You okay in here?" Again, no response. "Are you hungry?" Still nothing. "Maybe you want to come out later. Stanley Cup Game 6 is on tonight. The Red Wings could win it all." After every sentence, I paused and hoped for a reaction. "Alright, well, if you need me, you know where to find me." I sighed, dragging myself out of her room and back into the kitchen. I was getting pretty sick of feeling useless.

I tried to occupy myself yet again. I wandered through the house, doing random chores that needed to be done. I checked on Callie two or three more times, asking about if she was hungry or if she wanted to watch hockey. She still wasn't talking. After I pretty much had given up on trying to talk to my sister for the evening, I dove onto the couch, resting my leg as well as my brain. I clicked over to Game 6 which I was looking forward too but didn't realize how tired I was. I fell asleep about four minutes into the first period.

I must've been balancing on the edge of the couch while I was asleep. When Arizona came home, the wind took the front door and it slammed and scared me. I rolled off the couch, landing on my stomach. My face hit the floor.

"Ow." I groaned.

"Why are you on the floor?" Arizona asked, taking off her coat.

"I don't know." I said, rolling over and sitting up.

"How'd today go?" She asked me, sitting on the recliner. I pulled myself back onto the couch.

"How the days always go." I looked at the television to see a toothpaste commercial and I wondered where the Stanley Cup game went. When I looked back to Arizona, she was leaning forward, watching me. I assumed that it was her way of asking for more information. "She won't talk to me. She wouldn't even turn around when I tried to talk to her." On the TV, the game came back on. No one had scored yet and it was still in the first period. I really wished that I could just focus on the game and not think about my sister. I could feel Arizona staring at me but I didn't have any more information to give.

We sat without speaking until the first period of the game ended. It seemed that everywhere I went lately, silence had followed. I was starting to resent it. When the game changed to the intermission report, I turned to Arizona. "You should try and talk to her." Arizona sighed, slumping down where she sat.

"I'm just so tired." She admitted. "I'm in the OR all day and then I can't even come home and talk to Callie about it because she still won't speak to anyone." She placed an elbow on the armrest and tilted her head against her fist. "It may sound horrible and selfish but I just want my girlfriend back."

"It's not selfish." I answered. "And I'm right there with you. This sucks for everyone involved. Callie may be the one suffering the most but I still understand how you feel. I miss her as a sister just like you miss her as a girlfriend." Arizona did look pretty worn out as she sat before me and I felt bad that I never noticed it before. "Once we get her past this, things will get back to normal."

Arizona took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her hair before she stood up.

"I'm going to shower real quick and then I'll try and talk to Callie." She said plainly before heading down the hall. I laid back on the couch, directing my attention to the television screen where two of the announcers were talking about Detroit's goalie.

Pittsburgh ended up winning Game 6 and I had wanted to run and tell Callie since I knew that she hated Detroit. But since I knew that Callie wouldn't respond to me even if I did tell her, I decided to just text Seth about it. It wasn't the same. I managed to make it back into the guestroom before I fell asleep this time which gave my poor back a break. When I woke up in the morning, Arizona had already left for work. I did what I always did, finishing up a few chores around the house before checking on Callie. She was still maintaining silence. The day played out exactly as the day before had. So did the next three days after that, with the exception of one detail; the Penguins won the Stanley Cup. This made me happy and I couldn't share it with Callie which made me sad (yeah, I know that my thought process there was that of a four-year-old but whatever). I just texted Seth about again.

It had gotten to the point where it was like I was living alone. I cleaned, did the laundry and cooked everything (which wasn't pretty most the time). I brought Callie either a bowl of cereal or a sandwich twice a day and sometimes she ate when I left the room though she wasn't really back to having a normal appetite.

That Friday, I was alone in the kitchen, sitting on the counter top, watching an old episode of 'Heroes', eating a bowl of cereal. The problem was that I had gotten lazy and just reached into the sink to find a bowl. It was a bowl that I hadn't washed yet and it had previously held spaghetti. When I got a spoonful of leftover tomato sauce mixed in with milk, I decided that I wasn't hungry anymore.

I crashed early that night, not even making it long enough to see the end of the second episode of 'Heroes'. I woke up not too long after. The TV in the guestroom was still on and making the room glow in flashes. Also, my stomach was cramping. I trudged out of my room and into the bathroom and threw up as soon as I got in there. I blamed this on my 'dinner'. I washed my face before heading back to my bedroom. I was stopped in the living room, though.

"Catalina?" A voice called through the darkness. I jumped. Arizona reached up and clicked on the lamp that was on the end table nearest to the couch.

"Holy shit, you scared me." I whispered, though I wasn't sure why. When it's night time and you're in a dark room, people tend to whisper.

"Sorry." She said, sitting up on the couch. She was wearing her pajamas and tucked under a blanket. I was wondering two things; when did she get home and why was she sleeping on the couch.

"I didn't even know you were here." I spoke softly, sitting on the armrest of the couch.

"You were asleep when I got home," She answered. "Are you sick?" I shook my head.

"No, I just ate something that I shouldn't have."

"What'd you eat?"

"Milk and spaghetti sauce." I answered. She raised an eyebrow at me. "I didn't do it on purpose." I stood back up. "You should go back to sleep." I suggested. "I am." She clicked the lamp off and I headed back into my room, where I fell asleep with the TV on again.

Three more days passed with no positive progression occurring. Callie still didn't speak (at least, she didn't to me. I wasn't sure if she was talking to Arizona). She barely ate. I don't think she slept much, either. I had gone from feeling useless and worried to just being angry. I was angry at everything. I was angry at George for cheating on my sister. I was angry at Izzie for being a bitch to Callie during the whole thing. I was angry both of them for dying. I was even angry at Callie for having so much trouble getting past this (and frankly, being angry at my own sister for being shattered after something this big made me angry at myself).

This anger led me into the kitchen that Monday night, a little after midnight. I had woken up to my cell phone tumbling off the bed and crashing against the hardwood floor. I peaked out of the guestroom to see Arizona sitting at the kitchen table. All the lights were off in the house with the exception of the one on the kitchen's ceiling fan. I approached her, slowly, to find that she was glaring at the same pack of cigarettes she had bought about a week and a half ago. It hadn't been opened. She was tracing the outline of the package with her finger. Her other arm was rested on the table, her hand in her hair. Her eyes were red.

"Arizona," I called softly, taking a small step closer. "Are you okay?" She looked up quickly, probably not counting on me being awake.

"Uh, yeah." She said, wiping her eyes and then turning to me. "I'm fine." I shifted my weight to my right foot.

"You sure?" She nodded. I forced myself to walk closer and sit beside her. "You didn't smoke them." I said, nodding my chin towards the cigarettes.

"Yeah," She said, folding her hands in front of her. "I couldn't bring myself to do it." I swallowed hard.

"This whole thing has been pretty hard on you, hasn't it?" I asked her. She just nodded. I hadn't really talked to Arizona much about the entire situation because she was swamped at work and then had to come home and deal with my sister. I felt that talking about it would add to her burden. "Arizona," I began. "Is Callie going to be okay?" She let out a sigh and was still looking at the table when she answered me.

"I don't know, Catalina." She whispered. "I really don't."

"Okay," I responded simply and stood up. I looked to her before turning to leave. "Hang in there, okay?" And I headed back into the guestroom to be angry for a little while longer before I fell asleep.

* * *

**Everyone is running,  
And I come to find a refuge in the easy silence that you make for me,  
It's okay when there's nothing more to say to me.  
And the peaceful quiet you create for me,  
And the way you keep the world at bay for me,  
The way you keep the world at bay.**


	10. I'm Movin' On

**Woah. Two chapters in a couple of days? Be proud of me guys. We're getting so close to the bombshell (yes, I said 'bombshell'…be excited), that I'm just in a writing zone. The last couple of lines in this are pretty weak so I apologize for them but I had run out of ideas by that point. So, you all know the drill; enjoy!**

**

* * *

**I was woken up by my cell phone vibrating against my ear, not realizing that my phone was on my pillow when I fell asleep. Of course it was Seth calling.

"What do you want this early, man?" I asked in a lazy grunt, considering a greeting to be too appealing for someone who had called me at 7:30 in the morning.

"I've been up for an hour already." He answered smugly into the phone. "Hockey practice is in fifteen minutes. Are you still in bed?"

"Of course I'm still in bed." I mumbled.

"You're a sloth." He said with a laugh.

"And you're a jerk." I flipped over onto my back, rubbing my eyes with my free hand. "So, what do you want?" I could hear him fumbling with his hockey bag through the phone.

"I'm just checking on you." He answered plainly. "How's Callie doing? Did she leave her room yet?"

"No," I sighed, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. "She just sits there silently all day."

"What are the five stages of grief?" He asked randomly after a moment.

"Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance." I replied. "Why?"

"I'm just trying to figure out where silence plays in." He answered. "Like, which of those five stages does silence fall under?" The boy had a good point.

"Huh, I never thought of that." I said. "Maybe depression?"

"Or anger." He suggested. I heard someone in the background yell 'Seth, let's go!'.

"Hockey time." I gathered aloud. "Have fun, bro."

"I'll try." He replied. "Good luck with your sister."

"Mhm, thanks." I sighed. When he hung up, I just laid in bed a while, staring up at the ceiling. Maybe Seth was right. Maybe silence just happened to fall into the five stages of grief for Callie. Or maybe not. Maybe she was just having a hard time and needed a little push. In my mind, I had a decision to make. I could sit back and wait this out, let my sister get through this in her own way and let time be a healer. Or, I could step up. I could talk to her for real. I got her out of the bathroom; I could get her out of her bedroom, too. And why shouldn't I try? What was the worst that could come from me talking to her? It wasn't like the situation could get worse.

For a moment, I wished I could sink into my bed, never to be heard from again. That would make things so simple. But, I knew that as her sister, I needed to quit slumping around feeling powerless and start being helpful. I swung my legs over the side of the bed. My feet touched the cold hardwood beneath me. My baggy pajama pants ruffled against the floor as I took off through the living room and down the hallway, eventually approaching Callie's room. I didn't knock because the door was half-open and I could see that she was just laying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling as I was doing a few moments before.

"Callie." I said, as if I were declaring some sort of bold statement. She looked up at me. "We have to talk." She, of course, said nothing. I sat beside her. "Callie, you've been in here for days. Arizona and I are worried about you." She didn't answer and frankly, I wasn't expecting her to. "I know that you've gone through hell these past few weeks but it's my job as your sister to get you past it." She wouldn't make eye contact with me. I took her left hand in my right. "Cal, look at me." I said. And after a few silent seconds, she did. "Izzie is dead. George is dead. And laying in here, everyday, crying your eyes out and being this miserable and heartbroken, well it's doing more harm than good." She bit her lip. "You have to come out of hiding. The world's still spinning outside these four walls. You need to get back in the game. You can take it slow but the first step is getting out of your room." I sighed. "Oh, and talking." I remembered with a half smile. "You have to talk, too."

I climbed off her bed, still holding her hand.

"C'mon," I said. There was a moment of uncertainty where Callie didn't seem to know what she wanted to do. But eventually, she responded. She sat up. She squeezed my hand. And she let me pull her into a standing position. Her legs were shaking as I led her through the hallway and into the living room. I guided us both to the couch where I sat beside her.

Next came the silence. But this silence was different than the many I had experienced since my arrival. This was a silence set between anticipation and progress. Despite the anxiety I felt during this pause, I knew that the end result would be great. I saw it like a light at the end of the tunnel. So I waited. I waited for my sister to say something; anything. I thought that she could see it in my eyes. The silence was starting to actually get to me, I thought. I was just about ready to lead her back into her bedroom when it happened.

"How was the Stanley Cup?" She asked. My eyes lit up. Her voice had cut sharply through the thick quietness that was clogging my senses a few seconds before. A smile spread across my face as I struggled with the lump in my throat, all because I was so proud of my sister at this moment.

"It was awesome." I answered, sitting up straighter. "It was played the way real hockey should be played." She made herself comfortable on the couch quickly and then made eye contact with me.

"Tell me about it." She said. I never thought I would be so happy to hear someone speak. She leaned against my arm. "Tell me what I missed."

"Okay," I said. "I can do that."

"How many goals did Sidney Crosby score?" She asked with a sigh, still using me as a pillow.

"Just the one." I answered, settling into the couch. Callie's eyes were closed and I was pretty sure her lack of sleep was catching up with her. "Maxine Talbot scored four."

"Jeez."

"And in Game seven, Marc-Andre Fleury made this save. They're calling it 'the save of the playoffs'. There was like five seconds left and the Penguins were only up by one goal…"

We sat on that couch, going back and forth about hockey, until 5:30, when Arizona got home. When she walked through the front door, both Callie and I looked over our shoulders and back to her.

"Hey Catalina." She greeted. She hadn't looked "How did-" Now she had looked up and she saw Callie who was smiling back at her. Arizona stopped dead in her tracks. She smiled and I saw her dimples for the first time in a while. "Callie," She said. She rushed towards the couch and I moved to the recliner so she could sit beside my sister. When she was next to her, Callie's smile grew. Arizona placed a hand on Callie's arm. "You came out of your bedroom."

"Yeah," Callie beamed. "I did." Arizona wrapped her arms around my sister and hugged her.

"I'm so proud of you," She whispered.

I went back to the guestroom to give them their privacy. I was still smiling due to the fact that I felt useful for the first time in a long time. I crashed on my bed, flicking on the TV and just relaxing for once. Maybe I relaxed a little too much because I fell asleep (I had been falling asleep a lot at odd times and in odd places but that was because of an erratic sleep schedule that I hoped would come to an end now that Callie was getting better). I wasn't asleep for very long though. I woke up when the guestroom door swung open and someone approached my bed.

"Hey," Arizona said, sitting on the edge of the bed. She put her hand on my cheek. "I don't know how you did it but thank you."

"It was nothing." I sighed.

"You did a good thing." She replied. "You're a great sister."

"I do what I can." I sat up and when I did, the blanket got caught on my pant leg which was caught on my bandage (remember, my knee wound?) and I winced.

"What's wrong?" Arizona asked.

"I hurt my leg a few days ago when I was skateboarding." I said, attempting to shrug it off. "It's still sore I guess."

"Let me see," Arizona insisted. Somewhat reluctantly, I pulled up my pant leg. There was blood coming through the gauze. She peeled off the bandage to reveal the gash. Not only was it still bleeding, but it was also yellow (admittedly not a good color).

"Huh, look at that."

"Okay, wow." She began. "That is gross."

"I got a _surgeon_ to say my knee was gross." I stated. "And this is coming from someone whose job it is to put their hands inside of people's guts. I must say, I'm proud of this injury then."

"Very funny," She said, not looking up to me but still staring at my leg. "You know that I'm going to have to clean this though. Like, the right way so it doesn't get infected."

"Gotta tell you, Arizona," I pulled the gauze back over it. "Both the cleaning and the infection don't sound very fun."

"Did you disinfect this wound when it first happened?"

"Okay, define 'disinfect'."

"Did you clean it?" I thought back to when it happened. Though it only actually happened a few days before, it felt like weeks had passed since then.

"Sort of." I answered, half-sure.

Despite my wishes, Arizona did end up cleaning it 'properly and safely' (for those of you who are unaware, 'properly and safely' is Latin for 'this is going to hurt'). It stung like hell but at least my leg wouldn't fall off (or something). Either way, once Arizona patched me up, I found myself in the living room with her and my sister. Callie and I had lugged the Xbox 360 from her room into the living room. Callie decided that she wanted to play Halo. And she challenged me. But Arizona called first dibs. They played a best-of-three death match. Callie won the first game and Arizona picked up the second. The third game was intense, filled with cursing, screaming at the television and hanging over the couch and coffee table. Arizona was finally declared the winner. This didn't sit well with Callie.

"You cheated." She stated, folding her arms over her chest.

"I did not!" Arizona protested.

"Yes you did. I know you did. I saw it." Callie accused and soon they were shoving each other and giggling while Callie went on listing all the reasons why she thought Arizona had cheated.

"My turn," I said. "One of you give me your controllers so I can play." Not paying attention and still laughing and wrestling each other, they both gave me a controller. I looked down, as I now had a controller in each hand. "Okay, see, this doesn't do me much good." I tried to give one of them the other controller. "I really only need the one." Callie pressed her forehead to Arizona's.

"Admit you cheated." She grinned.

"Never." Callie kissed her.

"Admit it."

"Nope." Arizona smirked. "I may need more convincing." Callie kissed her again.

"Alright then," I said, turning my attention back to the television. "I guess I'm switching to one player mode." I clicked back to the start menu. Callie pushed her back further on the couch.

"Cheater." Callie whispered.

"I don't cheat." Arizona assured her. "Unless you're into that sort of thing." Callie laughed.

And it was almost miraculous because a few days ago, I was sure that I would never hear Callie laugh again. Back on the screen, Master Chief blasted a grunt's face off with a plasma rifle. I looked over my shoulder and Callie had pinned Arizona on her back and they were kissing again. I probably should've dramatically turned away or made some smart remark as was my custom but instead, I was just happy. Callie was happy. Arizona was happy. This was another moment that I took solace in. The only problem was, it wouldn't last very long.

* * *

**I'm movin' on, at last I can see,  
Life has been patiently waiting for me,  
And I know there's no guarantees but I'm not alone,  
There comes a time in everyone's life,  
When all you can see are the years passing by,  
And I have made up my mind,  
That those days are gone.**


	11. Author's Note

**Okay, guys, so it's been a while since I've updated. There are a few reasons for this. **

**First of all, school occupies about 50% of my time (most teenagers would say like 80% but, you know, not studying or doing my homework helps my percentage) and hockey takes about 45%. Sleeping is the other 5%. See the issue? The next problem is that I'm completely unmotivated and uninterested in this fic.**

**Here's what I'm proposing (stick with me, gang, this post does look up eventually); I want to put this sequel on hold. In it's place, I want to write the trequel (okay, so 'trequel' is apparently not a word based on the little red, jagged line I'm seeing on Word right now **_**and**_** because I Googled it and it told me it wasn't a word, but what else would you call the third installment of a series? The trequel. If you don't like my grammar, tough).**

**The major problem with posting the sequel is that, even though I know exactly what I want to write but I just don't want to. I don't like it. And my mind is cluttered with, what I think are, genius trequel ideas. And it's not fair to you guys that I never post on this one anymore. But the trequel? I'd probably be able to post once or twice a week.**

**I'd eventually finish the sequel but for now, I gotta be honest, I'm just not feeling it. And it doesn't seem right to leave you good people with nothing to read while I'm on this current dry spell.**

**So what do you guys think? Should I start the trequel? Should I just stick with this and see if I can force some more words down? Talk to me, gang. Tell me what you think and I will get back to you.**

**-KtK**


	12. Author's Note Part II

**The trequel is posted. Rated M.**

**Get the link from my profile.**

**Enjoy.**

**-KtK**


	13. Release The Silence

**Well. We're back.**

**I reread this fic (or at least tried to) and came to the decision that my writing sucked really, really bad. Half the reason I'm starting this up again (or at least trying to) is to show the fan fic population that I don't actually suck at writing that much. I don't really know what happened there.**

**I used to have a rule with myself. A chapter had to be 2,000 words for me to post that. Yeah, I'm no longer following that rule. I end up forcing myself to write more and the quality is not good and you get, well, the first ten chapters of this fic.**

**So here you go. A short chapter just to get back into the swing of things. Let me know you're out there. If I get a few reviews, I'll post the second half of this later on tonight. Expect the bombshell very, very soon. Enjoy.**

* * *

Callie was improving pretty quickly as the days went on. So was my knee. But I was focusing more on my sister's improvement. She was back to smiling and laughing and talking about hockey and cracking jokes about my turtle. I was just glad to have her back. Arizona was too.

One afternoon, I was keeping my tradition of being lazy. I was stretched out on the couch trying to beat my old zombie kill record in Dead Rising (oh yes, now that the Xbox was in the living room, I had an excuse to play it as much as possible) Callie came up behind me and covered my eyes. On the screen, six zombies jumped my character and ate his face. I looked up at her.

"C'mon, let's go get lunch." She said to me.

The restaurant that she took me to wasn't very busy but that was probably because it was a weekday. The waitress took us to a booth by the window where we had a nice view of the grey clouds and drizzle. Around the restaurant, people talked quietly and the staff shuffled through with plates and cups. My sister, however, was being pretty quiet. She was sort of fidgeting in her seat across from me. She was looking to the window, to the table and up towards other tables; everywhere but me. I figured that she wanted to say something but didn't know how.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was Seth. He was bitching about something that our hockey coach had said to him. I was trying to formulate some sort of response to his insanity but before I could, Callie spoke.

"So, I'm going back to work tomorrow." She stammered. I dropped my phone on the table involuntarily. I think it was partially due to shock. I wasn't even sure why I was shocked. I just was. I picked my phone up off the table.

"Oh, yeah?" I answered, trying to hide my surprise. "Do you think you're ready?" She shrugged lazily.

"At this point," She began, twirling the straw around in her drink, making the ice cubes clink against the glass. "It doesn't really matter if I'm ready or not. I need to get back. I mean, I'm not saying that I'm _not_ ready to go back. I think that I am. I hope that I am. But I need to try. I guess I just need to try" She sighed, probably realizing that she was rambling a bit. "I'm ready to go back."

"Well, okay, then." I replied.

We ate our lunch in silence. What else?

* * *

**Release the silence,  
Brought in on by us.****Stuck in a time cell,  
With all the farewells,  
'Cause I'm thinking of some things.  
****Love, hope and innocence.**

**Into this town,  
I stand unfound,  
No place to call our own,  
No way to ever know,  
That in this now,****We face the sound,  
Ungrateful hearts of bliss,****Of broken emptiness, sing on.**

**Don't lie, stick to it.  
Yourself is what you're losing.  
Beware, don't skip it.  
Who said it's easy choosing?**

**(Anyone else sick of this silence theme? I am too. Don't worry, it'll be gone very soon.)**


End file.
